


The New World State

by proudprussian



Series: This is the New World State. [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Concept Art Solas (Dragon Age), F/M, Fashion? What is Fashion?, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, Modern Character in Thedas, Modern Girl in Thedas, Multi, Not Beta Read, Why Orlais?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2020-01-06 04:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 58,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18380969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proudprussian/pseuds/proudprussian
Summary: The Reaper was always something of a legend, born from the ashes of the Fifth Blight. A friend to the King and his Warden-Commander (and unofficial Queen). They were said to be ruthless, cold and those that crossed them were never seen again.Mallorn Tuilë only wants to keep her friends and family safe, and if that means going up against an unpredictable Elvhen God, then so be it.A Modern-Girl-In-Thedas Story that spans from pre-DA:O and onwards.





	1. Inquisition Meet the Reaper

**Author's Note:**

> I've slipped down into the rabbit hole, or more like I've fallen from the Fade into Thedas. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this!
> 
> (Also cross-posted on FF.net)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mallorn Tuilë arrives at a distraught Haven, but at least this time there isn't a cult there. Does the Inquisition count as a cult? Well, there are no dragons there at least.
> 
> Not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started another one. 
> 
> Another story, albeit in a different fandom, about a person that isn't actually a part of the world that they're in. I honestly can't help myself, worlds like this are so rich and inviting and I love them so much and putting a character smack bang in the middle is such a fun experience. 
> 
> I hope that I can update this often, and soon, but with my unpredictable schedule, I cannot guarantee it.

The stranger had approached the Commander whilst the newly titled Herald had been unconscious trying to close the breach that had opened at the conclave. 

Androgynous in silhouette, they wore a dark blue fur-lined hooded robe and a large bronze scythe strapped to their back; it was clearly well loved and frequently used as the blade was sharp, but the leather wrapped handle had hand imprints that could be seen even from the distance that Solas was standing. There was a subtle, almost familiar, the power he could feel coming from their direction, but he couldn’t distinguish if it was coming from the person or their weapon. Regardless, it made him slightly worried. An unknown power was what had gotten them all into this situation in the first place.

They had asked after the War Council, but that wasn't going to be meeting until this afternoon, so the stranger had taken to helping out within Haven’s orphanage. They seemed to like children and had taken to playing with the little ones as their caretakers were able to take care of the injured children. There were an unfortunate amount of injured or ill children, human and elven alike. Most of their parents had been in attendance at the Conclave when it had exploded.

Solas couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of guilt. It was his artefact that had caused this to happen but pushed it down as he tried to reason with himself that he wasn’t the one that had used the orb in the end. The blame lay with Corypheus.

“I have to go now, little ones.” The stranger had stood up, whilst two of the smallest elven child and her human friend had attached themselves to their legs.

“But,” the little girl gave the hooded stranger the largest _halla_ doe eyes that Solas had seen in a long time, “You’ll come back and tell us the rest of the story, won’t you?”

“Please?” The little girl’s companion, a young human boy pleaded.

The stranger knelt, gently pulling them off of their legs. “Of course I’ll come back. I might even bring Sister Leliana with me, as she knows the story just as well as me.”

He couldn’t picture the stern-faced chantry sister, the spymaster whose reach rivalled his own,as a storyteller. But he knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving.

The group surrounding them let out cheers of joy, before running back towards the orphanage. Solas was surprised that the elven and human children hadn’t been separated, but supposed that there wasn’t enough room to house two different orphanages. He could almost guarantee that if they had the space for two separate orphanages that there would be absolute segregation.

Solas’ feet were moving before he even knew what he was doing.

“What brings you to Haven, stranger?”

Nice and simple, an easy question to answer; also a little silly. He couldn’t help but curse himself for the very stupid question that had a probably very obvious answer. The breach would probably be the answer, as most had been so far.

The hooded figure turned to face him, showing full lips and a small nose that had a large scar running straight through, as if someone had taken a large blade and sliced with murderous intent. Their eyes were still covered, hidden by their cloak.

“To help out an old friend.”

Their voice was soft, comforting but rough as if they had spent weeks without using it. Feminine, but that wasn’t always indicative of gender.

“Admirable,” The two of them had made their way to the entrance of the Haven Chantry building. “Especially at this time.”

“That’s why I’m here to help, it’s been a while since I last saw them and they’re going to need all the help they can get.”

Solas nodded, the Inquisition was young and the entire world was against them. They really were going to need all the help that they could get.

Reaching the doors to the Council chambers, the two guardsmen on duty nodded towards Solas and gave the hooded stranger a suspicious look, but allowed them to enter anyway.

“Solas, how is the Herald?” The Lady Seeker was straight to the point, as usual, not addressing the stranger but giving them a cursory glance and almost immediately dismissing them.

“He is recovering well and should wake up sooner rather than later. Either this evening or tomorrow morning I would expect.”

“Very good.”

At this Cassandra turned and addressed the stranger.

“Commander Cullen has expressed your desire to assist with the closure of the Breach.”

“That is true.”

The spymaster let out a gasp, her hand coming to her mouth in shock.

“Thorn?”

“Thorn?” Lady Montilyet turned to the Nightingale, questioning.

The stranger removed their hood, revealing dirty blonde hair braided behind their pointed ears, stormy eyes staring almost in almost trepidation at Leliana. The scar that Solas had glimpsed briefly before ran its way up the entirety of their face, passing by her right eyelid.

“Hey Leli, long time no see?”

“Leli?” Cassandra and Cullen were now looking between the two of them in confusion. Solas was pretty confused himself; he couldn’t imagine anyone calling the feared Sister Leliana, the left hand of the Divine, being called _Leli_.

“You know, you’re one of the only people that have the right to call me that?”

“Probably a good thing, too.” Thorn grinned, “We wouldn’t want to depopulate the world any more than what it already is, right?”

The Sister couldn’t help but laugh. “True enough.”

The was a silence before the two women were lunging towards the other in a hug. Solas looked towards the other two women in the room, who looked just as confused as he felt; Cullen, on the other hand, looked as if he had had a sudden realisation.

“How do you know each other?” Cassandra demanded once the pair had separated.

“They both travelled with the Hero of Fereldan during the last blight.” The answer came from Cullen.

“I’m surprised you remember me.” Thorn looked towards Cullen, a sad fondness in her eyes.

The Commander gave out a short, sharp laugh. “I couldn’t forget, you helped us more than you know.”

“Us in general? Or me?”

“Both,” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “After Kinloch it was hard to think straight, still is sometimes. Your advice helped both mages and templars that day.”

“I did what I could. I only wish that I could have done more.” Thorn looked downwards, melancholic, Leliana lightly shoved her shoulder to get her attention.

“We all wish we could have done more.”

There was more silence. Solas wanted to ask what had happened at this Kinloch, but it was clear that it wouldn’t be appreciated by any of those that had been there.

A clearing of the throat brought them all back to the present.

“I should introduce myself regardless, Mallorn Tuilë at your service.”

Josephine let out a gasp, “You’re the one they call the Reaper!”

The guardsmen at the doorway took a step backwards, as Mallorn sighed and shook her head, a disdainful look upon her scarred face.

“Honestly, how the heck is that name still going around?”

Leliana coughed and her friend looked at her in disgust. “It’s not just me, everyone had a part in it.”

“Even Sten?”

Leliana gave Mallorn a deadpan look, “He was probably the worst.”

Mallorn gave off a scoff that could have put Cassandra to shame.

“Of course Mister Sten the Arishok can’t help himself; I hate it and you all know it.”

“The stories say that the Reaper was the reason why the Battle of Denerim was as short as it was, considering how many darkspawn they defeated before the Hero arrived.”

Mallorn sighed, she had clearly this conversation frequently if the action was anything to go for.

“I really need to find Brother Genitivi and get him to re-write his damn book. To clarify, I wasn’t the only one who fought the darkspawn before Kana arrived with the King, but because I was her friend and companion, I was the one that received the majority of the credit. Which is wrong, and I’ve been saying it for ten years.”

“You did do a fair amount of the damage to the darkspawn army, though.”

Leliana couldn’t help but point out.

“I was one of the only ones there at the time with a proper weapon, but yes I do see your point.” Mallorn cracked her wrists, giving a wry grin. “That dearest, darling birdie of mine shares that point of yours, too. Likes to tell me more often than not.”

“That little birdie of yours is good for you.”

“They really are.”

The two of them were having a private conversation in the middle of the War Council, but it didn’t bother Solas nor the others, as a different side of the Nightingale was being shown. Something softer, more _human._

Mallorn turned away from speaking to Leliana to address the rest of them, “I would like to offer my resources and what knowledge I have to benefit the Inquisition and the closing of the breach.”

“Knowledge and resources?” The spymaster would normally be the one to ask the question, but as she knew the person offering it wouldn’t have made sense and would fall to the other advisors to, for a lack of a better word, interrogate her.

“She knows things that others don’t; it isn’t seeing the future or anything like that, but,” Leliana paused, not knowing how to word whatever it was the gave her friend the knowledge to help.

“Psychic is a word for it. I’m no seer.” Mallorn interjected, “But the knowledge is more of what choices could be made, only some not all, and what could come from making those choices. Paths that could be taken and what they lead to in other words.”

Solas couldn’t help but think that this could be incredibly useful, and wondered how such a thing could be possible. The elf stood in front of him was starting to become an increasingly more intriguing and dangerous individual than what he would have initially thought. They clearly weren’t from a Dalish clan, no vallaslin in sight, but they couldn’t be a city elf either. There wasn’t a meekness to her that clung to those that had been generations in the slums and beneath humans. They were built more along the lines of the Ancient Elvhen, more like him; taller and more obviously muscled, unlike him however, she wore clothing that made this more obvious.

“And the resources?”

“Technically they’re my partners’ resources, but we’re sort of a complete package nowadays.”

“You can’t have one without the other far behind.” Leliana helpfully pointed out.

“And your partner? Are they here?” Josephine, ever the diplomat, seeing what connections could be made and what help could be received to help further the interests of the infant Inquisition.

“My partner is currently gathering others to help out where they can, but he knows of my decision and agrees with it.” Mallorn reached into a satchel kept beneath her fur lined cloak and pulled out an official looking scroll. “He has recently come into possession of a particular organisation. Well, possession is a light term for how it came about. Sort of. You may have heard of it and of him? It’s said that to speak of them, they are to appear, you know.”

Josephine let out a small gasp of surprise. “Yes, I have heard of him and the Crows, impossible not to considering I am from Antiva. I had heard rumours of his golden haired lover, but no one knows anything more of them than just rumours.”

“Golden haired? Really? Well now you do, Lady Montiliyet.”

At the Josephine founded on her longtime friend, “You knew who she was and let the rumours continue?”

“Who do you think started those rumours?” Came the dry answer.

“It was a combined effort on the part of all of us that traveled with Kana and my younger siblings.”

The conversation from this point was quickly steered elsewhere, but Solas noticed that there was no more mention of Mallorn’s siblings at all, even though the spymaster had given her a look directly afterwards, so if to say ‘don’t mention them.’

The doors suddenly slammed open, Chancellor Rodrick storming his way in. Mallorn made a quick escape, after promising to catch up with Leliana and Solas quickly followed, having no intentions of sticking around the Chantry man who was clearly angry at everyone and everything.

* * *

 

I didn’t ever think I would find myself back here in Haven, didn’t think that I would live as long as I have in this world.

Thirteen long years it had been since I had been dumped into this world, thirteen long years in which I had seen more war and fighting than I had ever thought that I would. I missed my family, but they wouldn’t recognise the me of now anymore than I would probably recognise myself.

There weren’t any cultists around here, at the moment at least, and no dragon.

Not yet.

In my haste to leave the Chantry, I had ended up walking along the path towards the tavern with the Dread Wolf following behind me.

Solas certainly knew how to play the wolf in a sheep’s clothing, everything about his hobo apostate getup screamed at whoever looked at him as meek and nondescript, which the man certainly was not. The clothing choices reminded me of a documentary that I had watched so long ago about Queen Elizabeth I, dressing so that the masses would take whatever meaning that they could from colour choices, where pearls were and weren’t. Solas took it in he opposite direction, instead of drawing attention to himself it drew attention away, all except for the jawbone necklace that he refused to part with. And honestly, that should have been a clue in the first place, especially for a Dalish Inquisitor.

“You fought alongside the Hero of Ferelden?”

Ah, the question that got asked most whenever someone found out that I knew Kana.

“Yes, she’s a spectacular swordswoman despite being a rogue. Even still uses that sword that Shale picked up as a joke for Sten.”

Solas came up beside me, walking in time towards the tavern. “Is that the infamous butterfly sword?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes it is. She loves that thing, can’t really blame her though. It is rather pretty.”

“An enchanted blade, and a warriors sword at that being wielded by a rogue?” Solas pondered that for a moment, “Most unusual.”

“That really sums Kana Mahariel up to be completely honest. All of us that travelled with her, too.”

By this point we had found ourselves at the Singing Maiden tavern. I went to open the door, but Solas beat me to it, gesturing for me to go into the building first. Chivalry such as that was rare towards elves, even when it concerned other members of the race.

“ _Hannon le,_ Solas _._ ” I couldn’t help but to speak the words in Sindarin; I knew damn well that not being able to understand the language would annoy him to no end. Pity the Wolf didn’t know everything, then.

The elf looked confused, but took it for what it was.

“Chuckles!”

A certain beardless dwarf was seated at a table close by to the bar, waving Solas over.

“Would you care to join us, Mallorn?”

“Thank you for the offer.”

Solas nodded and continued to walk over towards Varric. There weren’t very many people within the tavern, but those that were there cast doubtful, mistrustful glances towards the table that we were occupying. It seemed that regardless of the help that both Varric and Solas had given so far, it was too little to help comfort those that had already lost so much. It probably didn’t help that Varric had been brought in for questioning by the Seeker and that Solas was an apostate, an elvish one at that. And finally the stranger, myself, who had arrived out of nowhere and hadn’t been present for the last few days.

All in all, we were a strange and suspicious bunch.

“Chuckles! Who have you brought with you?”

I offered Varric my hand to shake, and he did with an odd look on his face, as though my gesture reminded him of something. “Mallorn Tuilë, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Varric froze. _Ah,_ so he did know who I was. He quickly brought himself back into the moment, his slight freeze went unnoticed by Solas who had gone up to the bar to order.

“Waffles’ Mallorn?” This was said quietly, so as to not garner the attention of anyone around us.

I nodded, no need to speak anymore. And we couldn’t, as Solas sat down, carrying three tankards of what I could only assume to be Ferelden beer.

“I just realised I never actually asked if you drank, _ma serranas._ ”

“I drink in moderation, thank you Solas.”

We sat in silence, until an elven serving girl ran in, throwing open the door calling for Solas.

The Herald had finally awoken it seemed.

“Apologies, but it seems that I am needed elsewhere.”

Solas bowed his head, and followed the trembling elf out of the tavern.

I couldn’t help but wonder if I knew who the future Inquisitor was. It had to have been by pure luck and change that both the Warden and the Champion were the same as who I had played as back on Earth, but I had played as several different Herald’s so I couldn’t even be sure if this was the world state that I had known so far. It was both frustrating and daunting in equal measures.

Would the supposed Herald be an Adaar, Cadash, Trevelyan or Lavellan? Or someone else entirely?

Only time would tell.

* * *

 

_The Reaper._

Solas had both seen and heard things about the elf during his time during _uthenera_. The fade did like to show an interesting vision of the scythe wielder, kind towards children and spirits and a vengeful warrior breathing down the necks towards those who threatened those that she loved. Creativity had nothing but good things to say about her, blathering on whenever they met. Discipline, too. They didn’t say much when Solas asked, only that they were dedicated to keeping their family safe. The memories of her that Solas could view were shrouded in a fog, something had clearly been here and revisited them several times, almost tainting them with repeated viewing.

But still, The Reaper was almost as legendary as the Hero of Ferelden and her King, but there was so little knowledge of who they were and where they came from. Some said that they were an escaped slave, others said that she appeared out of nowhere to help Ferelden with the Blight. He didn’t know what to believe, and his people couldn’t find out anything as to where she had come from either.

Solas knew one thing about her that was entirely true, and that was that she was dangerous. All that remained to be seen, however, was if she would be a threat to his plans. Only time would tell he supposed.

In the meantime, he had to see to the newly named Herald of Andraste; humans did like to link everything back to their Maker and his bride, even the non-humans like the Vashoth he had seen hanging around and possibly even the elf that sat beside him now, allowing him to check over the mark that he had been the (almost) direct cause of.

“Does it hurt any longer?”

He didn’t want this to happen. None of this was meant to happen.

“It twinges every now and then. Oh and when I do this,” The Herald moved his hand slightly, flicking his wrist. The mark flared, bolts of green light spilling out with a hiss. “It does that. Do you think it will stop?”

Solas lifted up his palm and pressed it against the other elf’s own, flaring his aura as he did so. He could only hope that the magic in the mark recognised his own and would calm down. “It should calm down sooner rather than later. I believe it to be the magic acclimating to a new environment.”

A foreign environment, considering the elf was no mage.

“I don’t believe that I have thanked you for saving my life, so thank you Solas. _Ma serranas._ ” The elven was spoken with an odd accent, but the gesture was appreciated.

_He shouldn’t needed to have been saved from this_ , Solas thought. _Magic should have been a constant in the People’s lives. Another one of my failings._

“No thanks necessary, Herald.”

“Please, call me Callon.” Callon gave a short, dry laugh that was devoid of any humour. “I’m no one’s Herald, let alone that of Andraste.”

* * *

 

“Where have you been? What have you been doing?”

“I’m genuinely surprised that you haven’t been keeping track of me, Leli.”

After Solas had left the tavern, Varric and I had finished up his left over drink before Varric had been called away by the Seeker (probably to be interrogated more on the whereabouts of one Hafren Hawke). Leliana had appeared out of nowhere and directed me towards one of the backrooms of the tavern.

She pouted, “I did. But somehow you kept shaking them off, all of you have.”

I grinned, “All of us?”

“You, Zev, Kana, Morrigan. Sten and Alistair were fairly easy, as was Oghren. Shale’s been travelling about, hunting birds and crystals.” Her smile dropped a bit in sadness at the next name she mentioned. “I visit Wynne every so often, leave flowers for her.”

“I visit when I can, too. She did so much for us all and it’s difficult when people don’t see or believe what she did for us, for Thedas.”

And it was true, Wynne had proven that all so called ‘abominations’ weren’t terrible and that you could do good whilst cohabiting the same body, without changing the other terribly much.

“Warbari’s with Kana, at least.”

Leliana laughed, “That marbari follows her everywhere even when she doesn’t want him to. Remember when Alistair..”

“Which time?” I interrupted her, laughing. That marbari was quite possibly the most loyal being that I have ever met in my life. Overprotective at times, too.

We sat in silence for a moment, enjoying each others company.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to dodge the questions, Thorn.”

“Not much gets past you, does it?” Rhetorical question. “I’ve been travelling around, helping out where I can. Learning as much as I can.”

Leliana gave me a hard stare, she knew what I was saying was the truth but knew I wasn’t going to explain anymore than what I had already said. Regardless of where we were, secluded in the back room of the tavern, there were still eyes and ears everywhere.

“I’ve heard some rumours. Kirkwall?”

“Yes, I visited on and off. Not so much that it would be noticed by certain people, but enough.” Taking a breath, I continued. “I didn’t want to bring too much attention to those who I was visiting, they were in enough danger as it was. Still are, to be perfectly honest.”

“If you’re talking about who I think you are, then that makes a lot of sense.”

I smiled, and it wasn’t a nice smile; sharp and bitter at a world that wasn’t my own. “Glad that you understand, others don’t.”

There was a knock at the door, and Flissa walked in.

“Sorry to interrupt you, Sister Leliana, Lady Tuilë your presence is being requested at the Chantry.”

“Both of us?” I looked to Leliana, who shrugged. She didn’t know why my presence was requested either. _And why Lady?_

“Yes, Seeker Pentaghast and Commander Cullen would like you both there.”

There seemed to be no rest for the wicked, and we must have been truly bad.

* * *

 

There was a Tal-Vashoth alongside an elf.

I hadn’t expected that at all.

Their horns were clearly cracked, probably from where they had been cut off and with the iron caps in place, they were most definitely an escaped mage from under the Qun. The caps were decorated in purple and gold ribbons, tying into his hair with braids.

So, they could possibly be Kaiden Adaar.

What confused me, however, was that their hand was clearly clear of any sign of the anchor. So they weren’t the Herald, the future Inquisitor. So I turned all my attention to the elf; Andruil vallaslin in a pale blue covered his face and blonde hair shaved at the sides.

_Callon Lavellan._

Who was definitely the Herald, albeit very grudgingly from what I could remember.

“Allow us to introduce you, Ser Adaar, Lord Herald, this is Mallorn Tuilë.” The ambassador gestured towards me and I gave a nod of acknowledgement.

Callon reached his hand out, an offer to shake and I took it. “Please, none of this Herald nonsense,” At this I could see Josephine and Cassandra wince. “Call me Callon.”

“Kaiden, please.” And he too reached out and shook my hand.

I couldn’t help but wonder how these two knew each other.

“It’s a pleasure. Both of you.” He had a strong grip, typical of his race. Callouses covered the palm of his hand, he was clearly used to manual labour and especially that of the mercenary kind. Maybe he hid his magic? Being very obviously of the Qunari race would have frightened most, I suppose.

After letting go of his hand, I turned to the rest of the War Council who sat there. “What did you need to speak to myself and Leli for? Leliana I can understand, as she is the Inquisitions spymaster; but myself?”

“How did you know about the Inquisition?” Cassandra all but demanded. ‘We have only just this morning reinstated it open, from the writ of the Divine!”

“I did tell you she knew things.” Was all Leliana, or myself had to say about the topic. That’s a whole can of worms that I wasn’t ready to unleash, only a few knew the whole truth and none of them were in the room with me.

Only Zevran knew absolutely everything besides two others.

“We wished to know if you would be willing to travel with the Herald and Ser Adaar to the Hinterlands to speak with a chantry mother by the name of Giselle.”

_Ah,_ so it was that time. And the pair of them? That was curious, clearly the three person companion rule didn’t exist in real life. It hadn’t back during the Blight, either. Really where it all began; the explosion at the Conclave may have set everything in motion, but nothing was concrete until the Herald spoke with Mother Giselle.

“I would be willing, yes. Who else will be accompanying us?”

Callon looked curiously towards Cassandra, “I am unsure as to who else.”

“I will be, as well as Solas and Varric.” Cassandra replied. 

“So that makes it two mages, two rogues and two warriors?”

I looked curiously to Leliana, who gave me a sly smile. So they didn’t know that I possessed magic either. That could come in handy, up until a Templar hits me with a smite. It was also need to know anyway, and at the moment they didn’t need to know. Varric probably did, but he wouldn’t say anything. I could pass as a warrior, especially with my scythe.

“When do we leave?” Callon pointed the question again at Cassandra

“At dawn tomorrow.”

Why did everything have to start at dawn?

_Whatever happened to a nice sleep in?_

It must have shown on my face, as Leliana laughed.

“Yes, I know your distain for waking up with the sun, but _to_ _get anywhere sooner_ …”

“ _You need to leave earlier,_ yes I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter and that you will continue to support me with this endeavour.


	2. A Fortunate Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both the past and present collide in fortunate meetings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying a slightly different style of writing when it comes to this story; a little bit of jumping back and forth between the past and the present. Fingers crossed that it works out okay and that you all enjoy it! 
> 
> This chapter came together quicker than expected, and I wanted to upload it before my classes go back Monday and so that I didn't actually forget to do it; also in a slight celebration that Bioware has gone back to actually working on DA4.

**In the Past, near the edge of the Imperial Highway, Lothering, 9:30 Dragon**

_Thedas was an interesting place, and whilst I absolutely loved the fictional version, the reality sadly didn’t quite live up to my expectations. I didn’t have any, never having dreamed that I would be dropped somewhere like this when I had had that dream of being able to save a world from utter destruction._

_I’d arrived in this world two years before the blight would take place, in Lothering of all places. I managed to get a good rapport going with the Hawke family, and the local chantry mothers. When the Grey Wardens rolled into town, with Alistair and Morrigan behind her and their loyal marbari, I had debated with myself for hours if I was going to go with them; in the end I didn’t have much of a choice, what with one of the remaining Templar’s finding out about my magic. (And I had hidden it so well up until that point!) I booked it after the Warden then, giving the Hawke family my warnings and getting bat out of town._

_“Wait up!”_

_The small group of four had grown into a larger group of six, with the additions of Leliana and Sten. I had to wonder how Kana had convinced Morrigan and Alistair that Leliana and Sten would be needed, but I suppose all the help that they could get would be incredibly helpful during this blighted civil war and I; I really hoped that I would be included in that._

_I couldn’t help but hear Morrigan sigh, “Not another one.”_

_I continued on as if I hadn’t heard her, “I want to help. Please let me come with you!”_

_They all looked towards Kana, who continued to stare at me, eyes questioning and somewhat suspicious. “What do you get out of this?”_

_“The satisfaction of knowing that I helped to stop the blight?” She rolled her eyes at me and gestured for me to continue. I honestly couldn’t help but wonder what she meant; surely she didn’t think that I would want something from her? Or any of the others? “Oh, alright. I want to gain the power of friendship!”_

_This caused her to laugh, and you could tell that it had been a while since she had laughed properly as it was dry and rusty, but a laugh still. “Mallorn Tuilë right?”_

_“Yes? How did you know?”_

_She waved her hand, gesturing to the others that everything was fine. A tension that I hadn’t noticed was there dropped from their shoulders, hands loosening on weapons._

_“Your friends? Siblings? Anyway, they came up to me outside the chantry and told us in no uncertain terms that you would be a valuable person to take along with us and would appreciate it if we would allow you to travel with us.”_

_Of course, they had; Carver would have been the first to speak up, but he was at Ostagar and hadn’t returned yet. The whole Hawke family had been so good to me, even the dog. It was a shame that I hadn’t met Malcolm, who had passed the year before I had been dropped into Thedas; they had all said that we would have gotten along. I’d given Bethany a letter to give to him. I could only hope that both the twins lived and that Leandra followed my advice to not trust the flowers._

_“How are you in a fight?”_

_I cringed, of course, this was going to come up. Going along with them, or staying and running with the Hawke family was always going to end up with a fight. “I’m going to be perfectly honest here. I have only ever fought bandits.”_

_Kana nodded, as though she had expected that. “Ever killed someone?”_

_“A few.”_

_It was a struggle to admit, and even harder to comprehend. I was a pacifist at heart, in a world where killing to survive was a way of life._

_“We’ll be killing more than just a few, you’re going to be okay with that?”_

_“If I want to live, if I want others to live. Yes, I’m going to have to be okay with it.”_

_She gave me a long stare, as the others conversed amongst themselves. I was feeling incredibly judged, but she had to be sure I supposed._

_After a long moment she nodded, “All right then, you’re good to come with us.”_

_I let out a deep sigh that I didn’t know I was holding in, “Thank you.”_

**_You won’t regret this._ **

* * *

 

**Present Time, Outskirts of the Hinterlands, 9:41 Dragon**

Callon was practically vibrating.

One of his heroes was joining him on the trip to the Hinterlands.

When he was a teenager, he had heard the stories about the Hero of Fereldan and those that travelled alongside her. The humans that had been with her weren’t as interesting as the lone Qunari or golem, or even the dwarf and especially not as interesting as the elves themselves.

There were very few elves that had achieved the level of myth and legend status than those that had been with the King of Fereldan. The Black Shadow, the Hero of Fereldan and The Reaper. All named, and all incredibly mysterious.

He couldn’t help but think, despite the Conclave being an absolute unmitigated disaster, being able to meet The Reaper was a gift.

“Callon, right?”

By the Creators, she was talking to him!

“Y-yes,” Of course he stuttered. “That’s me!”

He inwardly groaned, could he sound anymore like a fanboy?

“It’s an unusual name,” She continued as though she hadn’t heard him stutter. “What does it mean?”

He faltered, not knowing the answer to that question. “I’m not actually sure, my parents never told me. They only said that they had seen it written somewhere in an old Elvhen temple and liked the look of it.”

He had actually been meaning to ask Solas, who seemed to be quite knowledgable in the language of the People if he had ever seen or heard the word.

Solas, at this point, turned to look at Callon, “An old Elvhen temple? I’m quite fluent in the language and I don’t believe that I have heard it.”

 _Damn_ , there went that hope.

There was a silence for the moment, they only sound that could be heard were the sounds of their feet as they trekked towards the Crossroads with Cassandra leading, Kaiden following along at the back and the rest of them in the middle.

“What does your name mean, Lady Reaper? It has a similar inflection, similar sound to that of our Herald here.”

She gave a significant wince at being addressed as Lady Reaper, but she answered Solas’ question nonetheless. “Mallorn means _golden_ _tree_ , your name means _pride_ in Elvhen does it not?”

There was a tense moment before Solas answered, his voice devoid of emotion and colder than Callon had heard, “Yes, it does.”

“ _Goheno nin,_ Solas, I did not mean to offend.” Mallorn started to twist one hand up into her hair, tugging on it in a nervous gesture. “I like languages, and names and knowing the meanings of names is something that I really enjoy.”

“Ease up, Chuckles.” Varric put a hand on Solas’ shoulder, “I’ve heard that she’s like this with everyone.”

“It’s true.” A shy smile lit up across her scarred face.

“She did ask me what my name meant earlier.” Kaiden piped up from where he was scanning the groups surrounds. “Apparently it means _battle_ or _battler_.”

Cassandra also spoke up, “Mine means _to excel or shine_ if you wish to know.”

Mallorn grinned, causing the scars to pull.

“No, I shouldn’t have taken offence at that.” He gave a wry grin, almost wolfish. “I suppose it was quite _prideful_.”

Mallorn gave out a bark of laughter, “Ha! That’s a good one!”

The rest of the trek was made in a comfortable silence, with only the occasional bandit and mage versus templar battle.

* * *

 

The amount of devastation that greeted us when we reached the crossroads was terrifying.

Corpses littered the ground, with carts and wagons filled with supplies from the fleeing refugees and the warring mages and templars alike. Regular lyrium had spouted in various places, where bodies had fallen. Spell books were left open on pages of fire magic, storm magic, lethal battle spells that hadn’t been learnt but needed to be done by the desperate magic wielders; blood and viscera covered runic circles and swords lay where those who used them fell.

It wasn’t a pleasant site, comparable to some of the smaller skirmishes of the Fifth Blight.

“What have you done, Blondie?”

I looked towards the dwarf, he looked mournfully towards the pyre that was being built by Inquisition forces for the bodies. Identification was attempting to be taken, but most mages and templars were beyond any recognition and dental identification wasn’t a thing here (and probably wouldn’t ever be, unless science really took off.)

“Varric, this was going to happen sooner or later. The tensions in Kirkwall only set off the powder keg that was the Circles.” I had said this quietly, so only Varric, Solas and Kaiden (who had stayed behind so as to not potentially intimidate the Revered Mother) could hear.

“The Chantry had far too much power, far too much sway. The Templar’s were leashed, collared much like the mages but much less obvious and the circles, they were glorified prisons. Anders’ only crime was the destruction of the Chantry in Kirkwall and the causing the deaths of those inside at the time, he didn’t start this war. It had begun the moment the Chantry deemed the treatment of those with magic as less than animals.”

“I suppose, it’s just that...” Varric stopped, his words failing him. For an author, that was something fairly difficult to do. “All these people, the innocents.”

“Innocents are always the first to fall.” Solas spoke so softly that I don’t think anyone was supposed to hear, but none of were human. We all did.

_The Dread Wolf would know that better than anyone._

Cassandra came back, with a sour looking Callon.

“We now have her support, and a group of others like her.” The Seeker looked happy, with the elf beside her decidedly less so.

“Yes, but at what cost? I don’t even believe in your Maker, let alone want to be the Herald of Andraste!” It was a good thing that those around us were far enough out of earshot, as he was almost shouting. Cassandra looked affronted, but Callon wasn’t finished. “I’m an elf! A _Dalish_ elf! I wear the _vallaslin_ _of_ _Andruil_ on my face! It’s fucking _blue! How can you people miss it?_ ”

He threw his hands up in frustration, before storming off to give the scouts a hand with the pyre.

“Religious freedom definitely isn’t a thing in Thedas, is it?” I stated before following the other blonde, Kaiden following quickly behind.

“The freedom to choose should be a given, not stolen from you.” Kaiden’s hand reached upwards, to gently touch at his shorn horns. “I had no choice.”

“But you got out.”

“I did, but I cannot help but think if living under the Qun was any different from how Callon feels now.”

“I suppose,” I thought carefully about what I was going to say next. “But under the Qun, I presume you wouldn’t have been able to shout at those supposedly superior to you?”

Kaiden’s laugh was rough, sharp and unused. “No, and a _saarebas_ like myself even less so.”

Reaching Callon, we followed his actions as he methodically picked up bodies from the ground and placed them onto the cart that an Inquisition soldier then tilted into the burning pyre.

I rested my scythe and pack on the ground, nodding towards Callon. The templar armour was even more jagged than it looked, with a flame spell clearly melting a portion into a pike that had imbedded itself into the human wearing it. I heaved them onto the cart and turned to see Kaiden who was lifting four corpsesand using his magic to lift another three more onto the pyre skipping the tilting cart all together. The Inquisition soldier looked towards the magic that the tal-vashoth was using, back at the bodies and back at the mage again.

“How many of these fuckers can you lift at once?”

* * *

 

The absolute insistence of almost everyone around him calling him the Herald of Andraste was doing him insane; he believed in his gods and while the Maker may exist, he wasn’t one of his and never would be. All Callon wanted was to be listened to for at least ten minutes, for the _shem_ to listen. But ever since he had woken up in chains, under the glowing green sky, they hadn’t. It really didn’t speak well for them, nor for whomever they managed to put in charge of the organisation that was trying its hardest to do something for the people of Thedas.

At least they were trying, the Chantry sat there and squabbled like the younglings of a clan over vallaslin allocations. (There were none, but that didn’t stop some of the older kids who had already received their vallaslin spreading rumours.)

Privately, Callon was glad Kaiden was there. He honestly wouldn’t know what to do if the mage hadn’t decided to follow behind him to the conclave. The friendship between the two of them was something that he treasured and wouldn’t give up for anything.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Mallorn and his horned friend join him.

Kaiden’s magic had come in handy for the menial task of burning corpses, which the Inquisition soldiers who hadn’t stopped working since the battle had ended were grateful for.

“I’ve never seen magic been used like that ‘efore.”

The soldier who had been lifting the cart had sat down onto the ground, huffing as he did so.

“I suppose you’ve never met a Dalish clan before then?” Callon’s words came out with more bite than intended, but his question still stood. How many of these people had ever encountered, let alone spoken to or traded with the Dalish?

“No offence meant, your worship, but your folks aren’t all too friendly in these parts to human folk. Not that I blame them, but it’s hard to hold a conversation with ‘nyone when an arrow is notched at yer face.”

Callon’s shoulders dropped, “I know and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. But magic like Kaiden’s using is fairly common when the hunters are away.”

The soldier looked up at him and smiled, grin full of holes from missing teeth. “Ah, makes sense. Good use of magic that is. ‘Spose it gets to ya that your not Andrastian and are bein’ expecting to follow it.”

It was always a bad thing when the little people understood what was going through his mind than the higher ups. It showed that the little people actually paid attention and the higher ups just, _didn’t_.

“I’m glad that someone understands that.”

“Sister Nightingale does,” The soldiers tone changed slightly, as though he was telling him a great secret. “It’s why the Reaper agreed to come along, or at least in part. ‘Rently she has other reasons to be out here. But she’s an elf and other than the hobo mage, might be ‘ble to understand?”

Callon snorted at the description of Solas, accurate as it may be.

For the left hand of the Divine, the Nightingale was surprisingly open to other beliefs than her own, but she did have a large network of informants and spies from all of the races (at least he assumed) and she did travel with the very Dalish Hero of Fereldan.

Maybe he could talk to her about the Inquisition toning down the Heralding? Or at least get the ones in charge to understand that he did want to help, but not at the cost of his individual self or his own beliefs.

The breach didn’t only affect those that worshipped the Maker. After all, there was more than one god.

And gods weren’t always benevolent.

* * *

 

The pyre kept on burning, even as the number of bodies added to it dwindled. The number of refugees continued to grow by the hour and by sunset the Crossroads was almost fit to burst.

The group of six had set up camp on the outskirts, with a larger group of Inquisition scouts and soldiers. As food was prepared, a watch cycle was set up. None of them was apart of it, at least for the first night, as they had travelled and fought enough that they needed the rest. They would be on watch the next night, when they were refreshed.

“Would anyone like to hear a story?”

Mallorn spoke quietly, but all those around her heard.

“Y-yes! Definitely!”

Callon was incredibly enthusiastic in his reply, making Kaiden laugh as he knew of his friend's hero-worship and often made fun of him due to this. Cassandra was curious as to what kind of tale the elf would tell, as was Varric and the two joined the others around the fire with plates in hand. Solas was setting upwards around the camp but said that he would join them as soon as he was finished his task.

Roast ram and potatoes were on the menu, with a mug of imported Antivan coffee.

“Anything, in particular, you’d like to hear?”

Callon leapt at the chance, “Something with the Hero of Fereldan? Maybe during the Blight, if that was okay?”

Solas has joined them by that point, “It would be fascinating to hear a first hand account, rather than just viewing the memories in the Fade.”

“But in the Fade, you can see more than one perspective on events that have taken place. Understand the conflict from both sides as it were.” Mallorn countered, with Solas conceding the point.

“I did not think of the Fade like that.” Cassandra admitted; things were still noticeably cool between her and Callon. They hadn’t yet spoken to each other after Callon’s breakdown earlier that day.

“Most do not.” Solas’ voice was low and quiet, the crackling of the wood fire being the only other sound heard. “The fade is an unknown, dangerous. Many would not think of the history that could be learned from the study and exploration of it.”

“Well, funny thing, my story takes place in the Fade. Well technically it was when we got out of the fade, the second time.”

“The second time?”

“Mm, yes. I won’t go into too many details, they aren’t my secrets to share, but everyone was in a right state afterwards and so we decided to get well and truly sloshed on some Qunari liquor that Sten had brought with him.”

Kaiden started to laugh at this, being the only other one there to understand the significance of how strong that particular brand of alcohol could be.

Mallorn was grinning as she spoke, “Sten clearly knew that we wouldn’t be able to handle it, and I don’t drink much and even I got well and truly drunk off of two cups of the stuff. Shale wasn’t with us at the time, and neither was Oghren. Wynne had just joined us, and was on watch whilst the rest of us acted like teenagers having their first drinks.”

Varric was laughing at this point, tears in his eyes. Solas and Cassandra also had grins on their faces as the story was being told.

Callon, on the other hand, was wide-eyed and had his mouth open in shock. He hadn’t thought that the company of people who had stopped the Blight would act like that.

“So Kana and Alistair were incredibly lovey-dovey over each other. It was actually kind of sickening. I don’t remember a whole lot of how I acted myself, but Wynne cheerfully told me that I was serenading anyone who came within a foot of me with an apparently heart rendering version of the poem Forgetfulness. Zevran allegedly was taking notes and muttering in Antivan about something or other.”

“I haven’t heard of such a poem,” Solas looked curious, his thirst for knowledge getting the better of him. ‘Would you be able to recite it?”

A wide smile was his answer as she nodded and interrupted herself to speak it.

“It goes along the lines of this; _If now you hate me as you say, can you forget so soon how you and I, the world away, once lay and watched the moon? Can you forget the day when cool seemed to our love the sun, the day that we? But I’m a fool, besides the day is done._ ”

“In Wynne’s words, I descended into something a fair bit more _obscene_ than the actual poem and Leliana had tried to actually write music to go along with it. And Morrigan, well she disappeared for the rest of the night.”

“Leliana tried to drunkenly write music for a poem you were drunkenly reciting?” Cassandra laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

“She was pretty insistent actually, and Morrigan had gone off to drunkenly hunt bandits and succeeded.” Mallorn pouted, “We all woke up pretty hungover and Sten thought it was absolutely hilarious.”

* * *

 

Mallorn confused him.

She was unlike what he had expected The Reaper to act like. He supposed that the title was much like his own, a mask or a front presented to enemies rather than friends or allies. (And he himself wasn’t too sure as to what the fledgling Inquisition was going to be, only time would tell.) and even in her movements during battle, Mallorn didn’t have the stiffness of a warrior, her movements with her giant scythe far too fluid and more like a dance than the forms of a rigorous training schedule. It struck him that the movement was more like a mage slinging a spell with a staff.

 _I do wonder who taught her._ Seeing into the Fade that evening was going to be the only way of getting answers without getting close to her, to see the memories of her past.

He didn’t expect the spirit guarding her sleep. Nor for her dreamscape to be so _green_ and full of life.

The spirit was not dressed in any manner that he knew of; they wore a tunic covered with what seemed to be a bronze breastplate depicting a large wooden horse being dragged into the gates of a grand city, greaves and a helmet with a plume. 

The spirit was interacting with Mallorn in a small clearing in the forest that made up part of her dreamscape. He hid himself amongst the trees, at a safe enough distance so the two other beings wouldn’t notice him.

“Sneaky, sneaky _fen_.”

She had spotted his shifted form, though the wolf was quite large and he did have red eyes, but he was being careful.

“You can come in, _they_ won’t attack.”

“Yes, because you won’t allow me to attack, _calma_.”

His hackles raised slightly, but the next words out of her mouth made him stop. “This is _my_ space and I can have visitors other than you or Creativity, _limbë_.”

“So, what can _we_ do for you, wolf? What brings you to us?”

Her smile was full of teeth, and eyes were sharp as though she knew everything about him. The armoured spirit suddenly looked even more threatening than before, teeth growing in length to points. The light and airy forest turned dark, cold and misty, wind rustling through the leaves.

The abrupt change in the Fade confused and frightened him, who was she for the Fade to bend so easily to her whims?

* * *

 

**In the past, In the Fade, 9:28 Dragon**

_I was in the Fade._

_Why the hell was I in the Fade? It wasn’t green and glowing, but there was a strange haze over the entire place, as though it were stuck in time or in a memory that was only half remembered. I didn’t like it here, I was quite happy not being a frequent dreamer back home, but I didn’t have the option here._

_“Who goes there?”_

_I knew that voice, where did I know that voice from?_

_“Ah! A new mage!”_

_Well, shit._

_“You show courage, but I can sense something from you.” There was a pause before they stepped into view. “You are an anomaly, not meant to exist here. Yet you show such strength in the face of the unknown.”_

_A luminescent spirit stood in front of me in full Templar armour and a large broadsword at their side. Their form flickered, and I could see a Roman gladiator. The next moment a samurai who was followed by a Gallic warrior, painted blue with a fierce grin. The spirit’s form finally settled into that of a Spartan hoplite, complete with shield._

Oh.

_There was only one spirit that this could be._

“Valour?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed it, please comment and leave kudos! I hope that you have a fantastic day wherever you are in the world!
> 
> Translations:
> 
>  _Goheno nin_ means forgive me in Sindarin  
>  _calma_ menas light  
>  _limbë_ means quick, swift


	3. There's Something Off About These Skulls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Wolf has a chat in the Fade, two elves struggle with a skull and songs are sung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CHAPTER WARNING:**  
>  There is a mention of vomit and bile in this chapter, I thought that I would warn you before you begin to read it. Please skip over it if you feel uncomfortable.

**Present Time, In the Fade, 9:41 Dragon**

I had been expecting Solas to show up in one of my dreams any day now, he had to have been curious. It was in his very nature, and it probably didn’t help that I had unintentionally sparked his temper in pointing out that his very name means pride.

I had cursed myself at that point, I really shouldn’t have poked the wolf.

Thankfully Valour had my back; he had had it since I had arrived here and my magic had awoken and had been an incredible teacher. The spirit was probably the main reason why I didn’t fight like a mage and preferred the scythe. It was a lot easier to hide away in plain sight.

That phrase also now took on a different meaning with the Dread Wolf hanging around, now that I thought about it.

He had appeared as a red eyed wolf the night we had set up camp at the Crossroads. He only had two eyes, probably thinking that it might not be a great idea to show up as the Dread Wolf. I wasn’t Dalish though, I knew better than to put stock into the stories that they spoke about in hushed whispers.

“What can we do for you, wolf? What brings you to us?”

“Yes, please do tell what made you interrupt our talk?” Valour grumbled out.

The wolf slunk slowly into the clearing, a sense of awkwardness surrounding him.

“I did not mean to interrupt, it’s just I have not been to this part of the Fade.”

I really felt like shouting _liar!_ at him, but the Fade was huge, he may havebeen telling the truth for all we knew.

“And yet you still interrupted us?”

Valour was glaring at the wolf through his helmet that he had yet to take off, glowing white eyes menacing even in the greenery.

“I did not mean to offend.”

The wolf bowed his head in apology. I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or not, but I nodded and gestured for him to join us.

“We have just been discussing the tear into the Fade, and how it is going to impact both this realm and my own.”

The wolf tilted his head curiously, even as he lay down on the ground.

“Yes, it had been most _enlightening.”_

The use of sarcasm by Valour really had increased since he had met me.

“Oh shut it, it’s not good for anyone regardless of who they are.”

“I know that it isn’t.”

The wolf was just watching us, with confusion in his red eyes.

“If the Fade continues to pour into the waking world,” I shook my head. “I don’t even want to think about what will happen.”

“What do you mean pour?”

I looked at Solas, he had to be playing at being dumb.

“Possession of both mages and regular folk. Spirits becoming demons because they are being dragged into a world they don’t wish to go to, kicking and screaming.”

I could have continued, but I was interrupted by Valour who had to put in his own thoughts.

“If someone wished to bring down the Veil between worlds, ripping it apart was not the way to go.”

Solas’ wolf face could have been carved from stone, as there wasn’t a single expression that could be seen on it. Valour had clearly spoken to hit where it would hurt, and maybe coming from a spirit Solas might listen, but I doubted it.

“Perhaps it wasn’t the intention to rip the Fade open.”

Valour scoffed, leaning again a tree and playing with a dagger, flicking it into the air.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. Doesn’t matter what the intentions were, it still happened.”

The edges of the dream began to blur, a sure sign that someone was attempting to wake me from my slumber.

“I believe we will have to continue this conversation another time, _fen._ ”

He nodded, as the scene around me disappeared.

“Be safe, _mellon_.”

Valour spoke, his calming voice the last thing I heard as I woke.

* * *

 

Solas was unsure what to think as he woke, the Fade conversation fresh on his mind.

Mallorn was not a mage, or at least did not he did not think that she was a mage. If she was, she was clearly hiding it and hiding it very well. He supposed that he could understand that, given the circumstances, but the thought of hiding his magic made his skin crawl.

Both the spirit of Valour and Mallorn brought up good points but both were clearly suspicious, one more so than the other of his nature. Elves in this day and age were aways suspicious of wolves, but he had a feeling that that wasn’t the issue that the two had had with Solas; it was the simple fact that he was a stranger at a time when the world was falling apart and those to trust were few and far between.

It was morning, and breakfast was being prepared by the Herald and the Mage Tal-Vashoth, who had bullied their way into doing the chore. He was glad that Callon Lavellan would not allow his morals or integrity to be compromised by the title bestowed upon him. He could only hope that it continued this way into the foreseeable future.

“Sleep well?”

The wry voice almost made him jump, as Mallorn walked past him towards where the food was.

“Ah, yes.”

He did not stutter, no he didn’t. “The fade is in turmoil still, which is unfortunate.”

“I suppose it will still be in turmoil until the Breach is closed, and the mages and templars have been sat down, with the conflict coming to an end.”

Mallorn still spoke to him even as she walked further away from him. There were only a few of them awake at this time, with both Master Tethras and Seeker Pentaghast still sleeping.

“Very true.”

The rest of the morning was quiet, without interruption apart from a small scuffle over how to cook eggs and the grinning Mallorn as she awoke those that had been sleeping with a bellowing horn. The grin lit up her face, which was normally almost sad, it made her look a lot younger than she probably was.

Solas was not game enough to ask how old she was, but guessed that she was in her early thirties or perhaps even in her late twenties. Women, from what he knew, had not changed since he was young when they were asked about their age.

It just wasn’t polite.

* * *

 

That had been the third rift that Callon had closed in the last few days.

His hand glowing a vicious, poisonous green that spat and hissed each time they got close to a tear in the sky and when they closed, there was an almost groan that only he seemed to be able to hear. Callon knew that he was lucky that he hadn’t had any pain, not since the first few days and not since Solas had helped to settle the mark.

It could have been much worse, he knew that now.

“Good work.”

He would have jumped if he wasn’t so damn exhausted, as Mallorn patted him on the shoulder.

He couldn’t even muster up his normal fan worship for the woman, as he grinned tiredly up at her.

“Thank you.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he was this exhausted, perhaps when Kaiden and he were running from slavers? Or when he first met the Tal-Vashoth? He couldn’t be too sure.

The six of them were looking for more places where it would be safe to set up Inquisition scouting camps and had come across the particular rift that he had just closed, practically stumbling onto it after trying to bribe an apparently prize winning druffalo out of an alcove. The rift had drained him to the point that he was falling asleep standing upright.

“We should be able to set up camp somewhere close by, take a nap and then talk to the Horsemaster.”

He hadn’t been so grateful for his best friend following behind him to the Conclave until that very moment.

“A nap sounds fantastic right about now, Kaiden.”

Cassandra made a noise of disgust, but even she couldn’t help but agree that setting up camp was a good idea; the obvious limp in her walk made sure of that. He couldn’t help but think that Solas and Mallorn didn’t seem any worse for wear, neither having taken damage in the fight against the demons and wraiths like the rest of them had.

An Inquisition scout came up the path in front of them, “Lady Seeker! My lord Herald, we have set up camp just up ahead.”

Callon could have cheered, it was some of the best news he had had all day.

* * *

 

**In the Past, Imperial Highway, Exact Location Unknown, 9:30 Dragon**

_Darkspawn were even uglier than I remembered them being in any of the games. There was something that they had never really mentioned in the games and that was the stench; old and new blood wafted from the small scouting party, as ell as the smell of bile and other excretions._

_It honestly made me want to be physically ill ._

_At least bandits, for the most part knew what soap was and bathed more than never._

_There wasn’t an emissary amongst the scouting party, but even as they charged at us I couldn’t help but feel overwhelming nerves. I was not guaranteed to live this, I wasn’t a part of the original narrative._

_They didn’t seem to have any strategy, only that of killing us all. To be fair, that was my strategy for them. I swung my scythe as hard as I could at the head of a Hurlock that had gotten past Alistair and Kana. The head fell, rolling on the ground in a bloody mess._

_I felt like throwing up, bile rising in my throat. I didn’t have time to think about it as another came at me; I didn’t have time to swing my scythe but I did have time for magic. My hand went out, thankfully gloved, as I caught the darkspawn by the face. Fire was all I could think of, as the head went up in flames, boiling the hurlock from the inside out._

_The small fight was over, and despite only having taken out two darkspawn I felt better than I had, maybe I could survive this?_

_I promptly threw up._

_“You did good back there,” My scythe had swung before I had even realised, almost decapitating the man behind me. “Whoa!”_

_“Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”_

_Alistair laughed, patting me on the shoulder. “All good, but you did good for someone who has only fought bandits.”_

_“Why does no-one mention the smell?”_

_He laughed, “I’m not actually sure? It wasn’t something mentioned to me when I joined the Grey Wardens.”_

_“You’ll get used to the smell, after all, Alistair doesn’t bathe.” Morrigan said as she walked past the two of us to catch up with Sten, Kana and Leliana who had started to walk off._

_“Oi!” Alistair had a comical look on his face, making me laugh._

_“The dog bathes more than you do.”_

_The dog in question had run off after a genlock earlier, and had yet to come back. Warbari was a silly name, but when I came up with the name in my first play through I wanted something funny. Barkspawn really was a close second choice though._

_“That dog does not!”_

_Kana called back from the front, “Sorry Alistair, but he has bathed more so far in the time I’ve known the pair of you.”_

_The future, possible at least, King of Fereldan threw his hands up in the air in defeat, whilst the rest of us laughed._

* * *

 

**Present Time, Redcliffe Farms, Hinterlands, 9:41 Dragon**

“So, I have to do this race so that the Inquisition can have properly trained horses?”

“Well, no.” Horsemaster Dennet’s daughter, Seanna looked sheepish at Callon. “But it would be a little bit of fun, right?”

“Ugh!” Cassandra was behind him, rolling her eyes. He knew that she would not appreciate him taking time out of their very important schedule to take part in a small race, but he felt like being childish and doing it regardless.

“I’ll do it, only one though.” Seanna grinned up at him and rushed to set the course up.

“Herald! I must protest!”

“Seeker, let Callon have a little fun.” Mallorn interjected, “We can handle the more pressing issues for now, let him take a break for a minute or two.”

Whatever argument had been brewing inside the Seeker was drained, even though her face was screwed up in a grimace, she nodded at Mallorn and Callon took that as a sign to go ahead with the race.

The mount was a Fereldan Forder, a beautiful horse but Callon couldn’t help but reminisce about the Halla that Clan Lavellan had. He missed riding them, a horse, despite it being a wonderful one, was not the same.

He took a few moments to examine the horse, before Seanna came back.

“Herald, we’ll be around the farm. I believe the plan is to split for a bit, to cover more ground as it were.”

He nodded, not looking towards the Seeker, too busy brushing the mane of the horse.

“I shall stay here with Callon,” Kaiden answered, sitting down on the ground. There wasn’t a horse here that would be able to withstand his weight, unlike the Halla or even the shire horses bred for the Qunari.

“Sounds good! Come along, Seeker!” Varric would have dragged Cassandra away, but she followed behind him heading off in a random direction, saying something about potentially setting up watch towers around the area.

“It’s not a bad idea!” Varric had been oddly enthusiastic for a dwarf who liked to keep his feet firmly planted on the ground.

“Shall we, Solas?”

That left Mallorn and Solas to head off in another direction, with the bald elf saying something about magical residue and artefacts resonating close by.

Ten minutes later when Seanna had come back, it was just Kaiden, the Fereldan Forder and him in comfortable silence.

* * *

 

I was alone with Solas, and this time without Valour there to intercede on my behalf I felt slightly uncomfortable.

Not about Solas, but about the entire situation. He had come into my dreams for a very specific reason and would most definitely not reveal himself to be the wolf, even if absolutely pressed. I really wanted to know why he seemed so interested in me.

There wasn’t a whole lot I could do, only to try and entangle him with words and pry his own from his mouth when his guard was down. And in the Fade he definitely wasn’t as guarded as he normally would have been in the waking world.

“What is it that you can sense about this artefact?”

Solas was clearly surprised about the question, “I believe it will strengthen the veil, it is hard to describe.”

“Please describe it for me anyway.”

He gave me a look, one that flickered with approval before going blank again.

“It feels like a cool breeze on a hot day, but one that is close to turning into a typhoon.” He took in a breath, happy to talk about the magic involved. “It also feels like a comforting hug.”

That was not entirely what I was sensing from it; the cool breeze I definitely sensed, but the hug was decidedly less comforting. It was more awkward, trying to make sense of this new being that was not Elvhen but also not _not_ Elvhen.

The artefact was confused towards me, as I was to it.

I must have been silent for too long, as Solas’ face lost its small grin.

“Was that too much?”

“No, not at all! It makes sense.”

His gaze seemed to be searching my soul, trying to see if I was lying. I wasn’t, but he didn’t know that I could sense the magic.

“ _Ma serranas._ “

The run down shack was where the artefact was located, hiding away in a corner and next to an abandoned bookshelf. Books were still on it, indicating whoever had once owned and lived here had left in a hurry.

“What a waste.” I pointed it out to Solas who nodded in agreement.

The artefact lay dormant, no matter the magic that Solas cast on it. I went outside for a bit, pretending to look around some more but in reality I wanted to see if Solas could jump start it (so to speak) with his magic without me hanging around.

“I believe we will need the Herald for this.”

The other elf walked out of the shack in frustration.

“Perhaps if we called him Callon, he may be more willing to help.”

“I suppose so.”

I continued as though he hadn’t spoken, “I know better than anyone what it is like to be reduced to a title.”

He didn’t have anything else to say about that; he knew all to well what it was like to be reduced to a few words.

_Fen’Harel._

Deceiver and Betrayer.

_The Reaper._

Foil to Darkspawn.

We both knew all to well what it was like to forget your own name when it was not used to refer to you after a length of time had passed.

“Shall we explore some more? At least until Callon is available?”

The pair of us could see the younger elf enjoying himself atop of the horse, forgoing the singular race he had initially said he would do. Varric must have been keeping Cassandra distracted, as the Seeker hadn’t interrupted Callon’s fun.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea,” Having a look at the occularum would take up a good portion of the time. “Let’s go.”

* * *

 

The skull was littered with ruins, all recently inlaid onto the surface of the bone. What I had initially thought to be a simple gem was actually a barrier of crystallised aquamarine magic that reflected what would have been seen through the socket originally. The occularum was helpful in gathering the shards, yes but that was about it.

I didn’t like what the skull represented. I could feel the magic coming from it, and it was screaming out in agony. If it were an alive person, they would have been tortured and bloody.

Solas had taken a curious look into the skull itself.

“This object illuminates certain objects in the distance, it seems.” He took another look, using his right hand to point out the shards that were being brought to life in the distance. “I am not familiar with such magic.”

Before I could stop myself I had spoken up, “I am.”

“You are?”

“Yes, and it is not a pretty form of magic. Can you not hear the screams?”

He focused a little longer on the ocularum, “Now that you have mentioned it, I do hear something. The cries are heartrending.”

He shuddered, clearly revulsed by the perverse form of magic. I couldn’t help but agree with him.

“The objects in the distance must be of significant importance for these skulls to exist though, perhaps Minaeve or even one of the other mages would be able to assist in understanding what that particular reason is.”

And thus began the uncomfortable task of the two of us attempting to remove the skull from its plinth. We were still struggling to remove it when the others caught up to us; I had a knife underneath the skull on one side, whilst Solas slowly removed the spells holding the occularum in place.

The others thought that the two of us were mad, by the looks on their faces; two elves trying their best to remove a skull from what looked to be an easy to removed stand and failing dramatically.

* * *

 

**In the Past, Imperial Highway, Campsite, 9:30 Dragon**

_Finding a camp site, one that was secure and out of the way of both bandits and darkspawn, wasn’t as easy as the game had showed. To be fair, the game had never made us actually set up camp so it probably wasn’t the same thing as actually finding a place and psychically making camp._

_“Give that here.”_

_Sten held out a hand for the material that I had been attempting to to wrangle._

_“Thanks, I’ve never done this before.”_

_Well I had, but with modern tents not ones that were virtually tarps held up by sticks and pinned by more sticks._

_Sten looked at me, a little displeased, eventually rolling his eyes._

_“I will teach you.”_

_I was definitely more than a little surprised. “Thank you!”_

_He waved my thanks away, showing me with more patience than I would have thought he had how to correctly put a tent up and how to take it down. Sten drilled the sequence into me, having me set the tent up and take it down more times that I could actually remember, so that I would actually remember how to do it._

_I wasn’t a fan of the method, but it worked. By the time I had finished setting it up for the last time, the evening meal was being served. A sort of vegetable and chicken stew that had been simmering since we had arrived. Leliana had taken that duty on, even as Kana had volunteered for the next night._

_That was something that I was going to have to get used to; one, maybe two meals and foraging for my own food. I was far from being a person from the city, but I was used to small town life (both here in Thedas and back home)._

_“Anyone have any stories? Know any songs?”_

_Alistair was attempting to include us all, even as Morrigan scoffed at the idea and Sten politely declined, instead heading to bed early. (He did say that he would take an early watch, which also could have played into that.)_

_I spoke up before any of the others could._

_“I have a song if you’re all interested? I’m not much of a singer, but its more of a tavern song anyway.”_

_“I can’t sing for shit, but I’m all for a drinking song!” Kana grinned, taking a swill from her canteen. I couldn’t be sure if it was water or alcohol and I wasn’t game enough to ask._

_“Can it be considered a tavern or drinking song if we don’t drink?” Alistair asked dryly._

_“Yes, as long as it’s one shared with a group of people or friends.” Leliana turned to me, “so how does it go.”_

_I opened my mouth up, and started to pat my knee to keep myself in time._

_“_ There is an inn, a merry old inn, beneath an old grey hill. And there they brew a beer so brown, that the Man in the Moon himself came down one night to drink his fill. _”_

_Kana let out a bark of laughter, rough from disuse and she looked surprised at herself when she laughed. I then knew that the song was a good idea._

_“_ The ostler has a tipsy cat that plays a five-stringed fiddle; And up and down he runs his bow. Now squeaking high, now purring low, now sawing in the middle. _”_

_I started off slowly, but as the song wound on the beats got faster._

_“_ The landlord keeps a little dog that is mighty fond of jokes; When there's good cheer among the guests, he cocks an ear at all the jests and laughs until he chokes. _”_

_“I’m about to choke.” Morrigan may have been disinterested initially, but she enjoyed learning and this song was something entirely new._

_“_ They also keep a horned cow as proud as any queen, but music turns her head like ale; And makes her wave her tufted tail and dance upon the green. _”_

_“Anora definitely wouldn’t like that comparison.”_

_“Nor would the Empress Celene.”_

_“Besides, a horned cow is a bull.”_

_“_ And O! the rows of silver dishes and the store of silver spoons! For Sunday there's a special pair; And these they polish up with care on Saturday afternoons. _”_

_“Why would there be a special pair on Sunday?”_

_“_ The Man in the Moon was drinking deep, and the cat began to wail; A dish and a spoon on the table danced. The cow in the garden madly pranced, and the little dog chased his tail. _”_

_“Awww.”_

_A Fereldan and their dog, of course. It apparently didn’t matter if you were human, dwarven or elven, if you were born in Fereldan dogs were the best thing in the world._

_Not sure about Qunari though._

_“_ The Man in the Moon took another mug, and rolled beneath his chair; And there he dozed and dreamed of ale. Till in the sky the stars were pale, and dawn was in the air. _”_

_“I wish I had ale.” Alistair was looking into his mug forlornly._

_“_ Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat: _"The white horses of the Moon. They neigh and champ their silver bits; But their master's been and drowned his wits, and the Sun'll be rising soon!"_

_“Must be a shapeshifter, eh Morrigan?”_

_The shapeshifter in question smirked at Kana._

_“_ So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle, a jig that would wake the dead: He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune. While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon: _"It's after three!"_ he said. _”_

_“Fiddles are so lovely!”_

_Leliana seemed as if she was going to swoon._

_“_ They rolled the Man slowly up the hill and bundled him into the Moon, while his horses galloped up in rear. And the cow came capering like a deer, and a dish ran up with the spoon. _”_

_“Humans.”_

_“Oi!”_

_“Men.”_

_“OI!”_

_“_ Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle; the dog began to roar. The cow and the horses stood on their heads; The guests all bounded from their beds and danced upon the floor. _”_

_“Dogs bark, they don’t roar.” Alistair muttered, prompting Kana to jab him in the ribs and shushing him._

_“_ With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke! The cow jumped over the Moon and the little dog laughed to see such fun, and the Saturday dish went off at a run with the silver Sunday spoon. _”_

_The beat of the song had reached its fastest peak as the last words to the song came out all in a rush._

_"_ The round Moon rolled behind the hill, as the Sun raised up her head. She hardly believed her fiery eyes; for though it was day, to her surprise _they all went back to bed.”_

_And that was what we did, after being thanked for the song and asked to do more in the coming weeks alongside Leliana and Kana. Alistair and Morrigan were on watch, a recipe for a snark fest if I ever saw one, with Kana and myself on the next shift._

_I didn’t sleep a lot that night, even as the thoughts of Tolkien floated through my mind._

_What had I willingly gotten myself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
>  **Translations:**  
>  _mellon_ means friend in Sindarin  
>  _fen_ means wolf in Elvhen  
>  _ma serranas_ means my thanks in Elvhen  
>  _ocularum_ is almost a Latin word; the word in latin for eye is ocularius.  
> The song at the end of the chapter is _The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late_ by J.R.R. Tolkien.


	4. Orlais Here We Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entering Orlais by boat and hating every second of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> **CHAPTER WARNING:**  
>  There is a slight mention of cannibalism, not a large one but it’s still there. Please skip over it if you do not feel comfortable.

**Present Time, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

Our arrival back in Haven was met with little fanfare, as we brought our news back to the War Table. I quickly popped into Josephine’s office to drop the Tranquil skull off to Minaeve, hopefully she would be able to make something of it.

(It had taken a well timed blow to the pedestal with my scythe and a blast of fire magic from Solas to actually detach the two from each other. Callon and Kaiden had been at the base of the hill, ready to catch the skull as it flew towards them.)

“Mother Giselle arrived a few days ago with a contingent of refugees, and Horsemaster Dennet has sent word that he will arrive within the next week or so.”

Leliana spoke, as Josephine took notes and Cullen added markings to the map on the table. Cassandra was leaning against the wall, watching and listening to the rest of the Council.

Solas and Varric had taken Kaiden to the tavern, saying that they would save Callon and I a spot at the table for when we were finished. I was surprised that Solas wanted to go, but I supposed that he needed to eat regardless of wether or not he was an Elvhen God or as I theorised, an embodied spirit much like Cole.

(It would help to explain a little the fact that the elf didn’t leave tracks in the snow, and when he noticed he made a more conscious effort. How the others hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t sure.)

Callon was standing over a corner of the map, playing with the chess like piece that marked out Wycome. Clan Lavellan would be in need of support sooner or later, which reminded me that I needed to send word to Zevran.

I missed him so much. It had been such a long time since the two of us had been apart from one another for this length of time.

“That is good, the support of Mother Giselle will hopefully go far with the Chantry.” Josephine seemed happy to have some good news.

I snorted, “I really doubt that.”

Leliana looked towards me, “You know something.”

“When don’t I?”

“ _Thorn_.”

I sighed, standing up from the chair in which I was slouching. “Even with the support of Mother Giselle, the Chantry is going to be a difficult ally to wrangle. Going to Val Royeaux is a good idea, but we need to remember that currently we are _Undesirable Number One_. We cannot be sure what would be waiting for us in Orlais’ capital.”

“How did you… _Ah_ , never mind.” Cullen had suddenly remembered that I claimed psychic abilities in place of telling the entire world about me not being Theodasian. “It is true that we will need the Herald to speak to the clerics in Val Royeaux, regardless of the decision is made to contact either the mages or templars.”

“Neither group will talk to us at this present moment,” Josephine interjected as Callon raised his head to glare at Cullen for reminding them all of his unwanted title, making the Commander look away sheepishly.

Callon had requested that amongst friends and the inner circle that titles no longer existed; he understood the need to posture around the general populace, but he would never be comfortable with it no matter the circumstance.

“ _Shem_ and their desperate need to title everyone and everything.” Callon grumbled and I broke into laughter.

“ _Falon_ , you know they would feel lost without titles.” I grinned at him, “It’s how they keep control of their lives.”

I’d often say the same thing to Kana when the Landsmeet occurred, and even when Alistair was crowned King. Leliana giggled, before putting a hand over her mouth in shock. Good, it was nice to see my friend laugh again after so long.

“Addressing the remaining clerics in Val Royeaux is our top priority for the moment, we can discuss allying ourselves with either the Mages or Templars after.”

Callon groaned, “Siding with one over the other is not going to end well.”

My voice was full of dread as I whispered, “No, it won’t.”

It would either be the Venatori and Mages or the Venatori and Red Templars, bringing about the doom of Haven. I had mentioned to Leliana, quietly, that we needed an escape route if something were to happen; supplies needed to be stockpiled, and the trebuchets needed to be aimed, loaded and ready to fire.

I did not want any more deaths on my conscious, especially not if I could forewarn them even slightly.

* * *

 

**In the Past, The Ruins of Ostagar, 9:30 Dragon**

_After we had packed up the camp that morning, Bodhan and Sandal agreeing to stay hidden and out of the way by the roadside, it was decided that we needed to go to where this had all begun._

_The Ruins of Ostagar and the battle that took place there. Both Kana and Alistair were wary of going back, but they both knew what was at stake. Their personal feelings about the place did not matter at the moment._

_Arriving at the ruins, I spotted a statue of a wolf out of the corner of my eye. Of course there was a statue of the Dread Wolf here. I couldn’t remember if there was one in the game or not, but at this point whatever I knew was probably going to change anyway, if it hadn’t already. I supposed that I could have a look at the statue when we left the place, I had never seen one up close before._

_It was just a desolate and abandoned as I thought it would be; Ostagar was in an even worse state than what the game had ever pictured._

_Bodies had been piled up high, darkspawn and the untainted alike, many of the corpses had been scavenged for meat. Did it count as cannibalism if the darkspawn were no longer human, elven, vashoth or dwarven?_

_I wasn’t sure if I wanted to find out._

_“We must be careful, there are darkspawn still here.”_

_Alistair was quiet, grim. He likely didn’t want to spook any of us that hadn’t previously been to Ostagar before, or at least I hoped that was his intention._

_This place was creeping me out, the silence and crackling of the fire was normally a comfort, but it was not in this place haunted by the fallen. I had a feeling of what we were going to stumble across next would haunt me, and I knew that I was right._

_“Wait!”_

_The urgency in Kana’s voice caused us all to stop in our tracks; she pointed upwards at the body that had been brutalised and stripped naked, leaving the deceased without their dignity. King Cailan was almost unrecognisable, only that the darkspawn had left his face unblemished. They clearly knew that this would hurt any of the remaining Grey Wardens, and for creatures without individual thought they did psychological torture incredibly well._

_“No!” Alistair dropped to the ground, both his legs giving way as he stared up at the face of his elder brother. “No!”_

_He knew that his half-brother had died, had to have died for Loghain to announce the Grey Wardens as traitors to the crown, but to see his corpse. I couldn’t even imagine what he was going through._

_“Alistair, we have to keep going!”_

_Kana had knelt beside him, trying to get him to move along. Leliana had covered her mouth in shock as she stared up at the body, Sten and Morrigan had politely distanced themselves from the group, knowing that nothing they could say would help. Their acerbic wit would be of no service here._

_“We need to take his body down, ready him for burial.”_

_“And we will,” I spoke up, as quietly as I could manage and in the most gentle way I could. “But first we need to get rid of the darkspawn lurking about.”_

_He took in a shuddering breath, tears leaking from his eyes as we looked away from him to give him the illusion of privacy._

_“Okay, okay.”_

_We each avoided looking at the King’s body, walking towards the almost collapsed entrance to the fort knowing that darkspawn were waiting for us just around the corner._

* * *

 

**Present Time, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

Callon was not ashamed to admit it, but he desperately needed a nap. And an extremely long one at that. It wasn’t likely that he was going to get one at the moment, as he tuned the Inquisition Council out in favour for reading the letter from his Keeper that had been handed to him by Leliana.

He noticed that the letter did not mention neither him, nor Kaiden by name and only that two members of the extended clan had been present.

_Extended clan._ That was what he was now, or had been since he had found Kaiden wounded and bleeding, fending off slavers surrounded by other mercenaries that had presumably been his friends and family. Just because he had brought back the Tal-Vashoth out of common decency and a mutual hatred for slavery, he had been practically ostracised by members of his own family and clan.

Though that had been happening since he did not manifest magic like both his parents, he had been slowly pushed aside as he grew and got older. Even if Clan Lavellan was considered to be one of the more progressive clans, the child of the First and Second who didn’t have magic was considered to be the greatest of scandal.

He was the shame of his parents, who couldn’t have anymore children after he was born and the shame of his clan because he had bought in a shem mage.

“Callon, are you alright?”

The rogue shook his head, not noticing the others worried looks as they left the room, “No, sorry.”

Josephine looked at him in concern, “If there is anything that I can do? That we can do?”

He gave her a sad smile, “No unfortunately, just thinking heavy thoughts.”

“Perhaps we should convene the rest of this conversation to a later time? At least before you leave for Orlais in a few days time?”

He nodded towards the Ambassador, only just realising that it was only him and her left in the room.

“Where did the others go?”

She smiled at him, “Cassandra and Cullen are training the troops, Leliana is off doing _something_ and Mallorn said to tell you to join them in the tavern for a bit.”

He nodded, before whining like a small child that was slightly ruined by his manic grin.

“But I’m _tired!_ ”

* * *

 

“How does a Tal-Vashoth mercenary, especially a former _sarebaas_ form a friendship with a Dalish rogue?”

Varric knew a good tale when he saw one, and he could tell that this one would be brilliant.

“Over a mutual hatred of slavers for a start.”

“Oh? That’s something that I think all of us here can agree on.”

Solas had joined them, bringing drinks and somehow levitating four plates onto the table as Mallorn had ducked out to write a quick letter to her husband.. Varric couldn’t help but be impressed by that simple, but definitely tricky bit of magic. Luckily for them there wasn’t anyone else in the Tavern, otherwise he knew that Solas wouldn’t have done something like that.

People were scared, and most had good reason to be so.

“Cal and I met when I was on the verge of death.”

There was the sound of the door being opened, light footsteps and a thud as the elf in question sat down

“You were not on the verge of death, _ma falon_.”

The Tal-Vashoth grinned at their friend, “Yes I was. I was bleeding out and you swooped in and killed the remaining slavers. _Just like my very own rogue in plated armor!_ ”

Kaiden pretended to swoon onto the elf, even as Callon palmed his face, pushing the larger of the two off of him. Or at least he tried to, but Kaiden did not move, going as far as to rest their head in their friends lap, pretending to faint.

“Get off you big lug!”

“But you’re my _lethallin reth,_ Callon, my _lethallin reth_!”

Mallorn had returned, casting a look at the other blond elf and his mage friend before rolling her eyes, apparently used to that sort of behaviour. Varric thought that that was fair, she had lived with the Hawke siblings and their Mother when Mallorn was younger.

The siblings were trouble as adults, as children Varric did not want to even imagine.

“Did you use three languages there Kaiden?”

They grinned up at her, “ _Si_! Well, sort of.”

“And a fourth. Nice!” She gave him a thumbs up, grabbing an extra plate from Flissa before coming to sit down at the now crowded table.

“What were we talking about?”

Solas interjected before anyone else could.

“I believe that we were discussing how these two met, where Callon saved Kaiden’s life when he was bleeding out from slavers.”

“Alright! I saved him, but he wasn’t dying and he wasn’t bleeding out!”

Callon threw his arms up in frustration, but there was a gleam in his eyes that screamed of mischief.

“I was bleeding, a lot.”

“I still don’t know how I managed to drag you back to the clan.”

Varric laughed at the mental image that it gave him. Callon Lavellan was not a little guy, at least for an elf, but Kaiden Adaar was a Vashoth and more than twice their friends height and probably quadruple the weight.

Perhaps he had dragged the other away by the horns? Varric quickly dispelled the thought as he was reminded that _sarebaas_ had their horns cut off to show that they were dangerous for having magic, mouths sewn shut.

The way the Qun treated their mages always forcibly reminded Varric of the Tranquil in Kirkwall and then the Mage Underground, which inevitably led to remembering Anders.

He didn’t need to go down that path, not at the moment when the world was at stake.

* * *

**In the Past, The Ruins of Ostagar, 9:30 Dragon**

_The darkspawn left behind were relentless, each one seeming to be more powerful than the last. Considering that the group of us was more than just three people, we made short work of the grunts but the emissaries were an entirely other breed._

_“I need a little help here!”_

_Kana had been surrounded on all sides by darkspawn, as they tried to rush her with greater stength to their numbers._

_I was closest to her, but was struggling a little with the emissary myself. I had not yet revealed my magic, not entirely sure if it would be a good idea or not, but I didn’t have much of a choice._

_“Duck!”_

_My scythe, much like the Staff of Parlathan, was built for more than one purpose. Runes decorated the blade and grip. Fire magic was a particular branch that came very easy to me, so that’s what I called upon._

_Swinging the scythe around me, decapitating the emissary in front of me with the fire coming from the scythe burning the Hurlock alphas behind Kana to a crisp. Swinging the scythe again, this time to use the blade to cut down another that had turned around to face me snarling._

_“Thanks!”_

_“No problems!”_

_I didn’t think that I would face any prejudice from Kana based on my magic, but I could never be certain. Either that or she hadn’t noticed I had used magic. For some reason most people never noticed when I used magic around them, even if it were something like I had just done. It was as if my magic was invisible to everyone but me and the denizens of the Fade._

_Or if you had the name surname Hawke for some reason._

_The remaining darkspawn had attempted to flee, but Sten and Alistair were waiting for them as they ran. Morrigan and Leliana stood guard as Kana and I caught our breath._

_“Nice use of magic there.”_

_So she had seen the magic I used. Good to know._

_“I suppose though it’s safer to hide as a warrior?”_

_“Uh, yes it is. Most folk don’t particularly like it when an elf can wield magic in a primarily human town, but for some reason a massive scythe is okay.”_

_She snorted, “Shemlen are strange. How is magic any different from a sword, or something enchanted?”_

_Morrigan added her own thoughts as she wondered over._

_“It is not. The Circles of Magi are prisons, more so than they are meant to be schools of learning.”_

_“Call it what it truly is, segregation.” I spat the words out as if they were poison._

_“‘Tis true, much like the alienates for the elves.”_

_Leliana stood by, watching almost uncomfortably. She was a Sister of the Chantry and saw daily how both elves and those with magic were treated, especially if they were both. Even the mention of Shartan was considered blasphemous, despite his triumph for Andraste._

_“Chantry propaganda does not help with human superstition.”_

_Leliana was clearly deep in thought over this, still silent as both Alistair and Sten rejoined us._

_It was time to continue onwards._

* * *

 

_We were searching for a key to a chest containing something important to the King, and something that he apparently wanted for both Alistair and the Grey Wardens as a whole. The statue was within the inner sanctum of the ruins as told to us by a solider who had run into us on the Imperial Highway._

_“Why are there so many darkspawn wearing pieces of the King’s armour?”_

_So far we were only missing a single piece, the chest plate._

_“They’re using the armour as a trophy and to taunt the Grey Wardens.”_

_Leliana’s voice was soft, but direct._

_“They’re saying ‘ha ha we’re winning’, is that right?” Kana was looking dangerously towards the pile of darkspawn corpses, and if she had magic they would have been dead ten times over._

_“It seems so.”_

_“Fucking darkspawn!”_

_Kana kicked the closest object to her, which happened to be a decapitated genlock head. It went flying into the air as a blur came flying at it, catching it in its gaping mouth, before chucking it off in another direction._

_It was a marbari, or at least it looked like a marbari. The features of the canine were more wolffish than just pure marbari. For a start, the fur covering the animal was shaggier, more like the fur of a wolf and was covered in giant splotches of grey and black, it’s eyes gleaming a victorious but somewhat playful ice blue._

_“I’ve got this.” Morrigan raised her staff to finish the wolfdog off, but I jumped in the way._

_“Wait! I want to try something first.”_

_Leliana seemed to know what my intentions were, as she put a hand on my arm in warning._

_“Be careful.”_

_“I will try.”_

_I inched slowly and carefully towards the animal, making sure that it could see both my hands and hoping that it would realise that I was not trying to threaten it or harm it._

_It raised its hackles, so I stopped moving. The hackles lowered, and slower than before I walked closer. It hadn’t taken its eyes off of me, but made no movement to come any closer, as if it were waiting for me to come to that decision._

_I was close enough to each out and touch the animal when it lunged towards me._

_I could here the other behind me shout out in worry, but the wolfdog was more interested in covering my face with its slobber. It was larger than I thought, now that I had gotten up close and personal._

_“Get off!” I was laughing even as I pushed the wolfdog off of me; it gave very little resistance, which I was thankful for. It definitely wasn’t light by any means, pretty much made of pure muscle._

_I was sitting on the ground, with an over enthusiastic wolfdog resting its head on my lap, withgenlock head laying a few metres away._

_“Is it safe to come over?”_

_Leliana’s voice was concerned._

_“Carefully, I don’t think it means any harm.”_

_As if to prove my point, the wolfdog lifted it head from my lap and stuck its tongue out at the approaching group._

_“We’re not taking it with us”_

_Morrigan had been quite firm in her opinion._

_“We already have Warbari, another dog wouldn’t hurt.”_

_Alistair seemed thrilled at the prospect of having another dog on the journey._

_“Alistair, I don’t think that you’ve noticed, but that’s not a marbari.”_

_Kana was wary, wolves didn’t just come out of nowhere and she was Dalish first and foremost._

_Alistair has crouched down, reaching out a hand to scratch beneath the wolfdogs chin. The animal in question gave out a pathetic whine, nudging closer to the Wardens hand._

_“Please Kana?”_

_“Oh for the love of Mythal! Seriously?”_

_“Please?”_

_Alistair, the wolfdog and myself stared up at the Warden trying to give her the saddest puppy eyes that we could attempt. Kana looked at the others who had turned away, they obviously were not going to give her any support which didn’t bode well for her._

_“Fine!” She threw her hands up in the air when Alistair and I had grinned at each other in a moment of victory._

_“But if Warbari doesn’t get along with this one, they’re gone.”_

_That was a fair enough statement to make._

_“What are you going to call them?”_

_“I’ll wait to see what Warbari thinks, wouldn’t want to get too attached now would I?”_

_Kana muttered under her breath, “It’s a bit late for that now, isn’t it?”_

_“Well, is the wolf dog a boy or a girl?”_

_Sten picked the animal up with in a swift motion that it wasn’t quite expecting, but it didn’t fight back._

_“It’s a boy.”_

_I thanked him as he placed the dog back down. I was going to have to think on a name, something from_ home.

* * *

 

**Present Time, On a Ship to Orlais, 9:41 Dragon**

Out of the seven of us, four had seasickness. Awful seasickness that had also taken half the ships crew out of commission, so it must not have just been the general sort. There was a bug going around.

“How can you handle this?”

“Easy, I’ve got a stomach of steel.”

Kaiden couldn’t help but taunt their friend, who was hanging his head over a bucket. Varric and Cassandra had left to go to their beds earlier after each took an elfroot potion to settle their stomachs. Callon was much more stubborn than that it seemed.

“Have you tried taking an elfroot potion?”

He glared weakly up at me, before heaving into his bucket again.

“I do not believe a potion would help the Herald at this moment.”

Solas couldn’t help but grin, a small thing that was gone as soon as it arrived on his face.

“Go to bed, Callon. Sleep the sickness off.”

He grumbled but did as he was told, slumped like a scolded teenager being grounded by his parent.

* * *

 

Val Royeaux was just as extravagant, just as opulent as the last time I had visited. Perfume filled flowers greeted us at the docks, a complete change from the steam and smoke at the docks at the Fereldan port. The streets were lined with gold leaf, whilst beggars huddled in corners hidden from view, wanting little more than small change or food. The amount of food wastage was obscene, as those with the wealth threw out buckets of food into the sea.

I hated it here.

I was constantly reminded by what my year twelve history teacher said about Versailles. Pretty it may be, but built on the blood of the common folk.

Upon entering the gates to the city, there were loud shocked gasps and small screams as a group of locals scattered upon seeing members of the Inquisition enter. Either that or the strange group of mostly elves, a single dwarf and Vashoth, with one human amongst the group.

“I think they know who we are, Seeker.”

Varric couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric.”

A scout walked up to us silently bowing to Cassandra and Callon, nodding towards me as a few Orlesians fled from us in horror.

“The chantry mothers await you, but so do a great many Templars.”

I interrupted the scout before she could say much more.

“I’m going to head on through, see if I can talk to Ser Barris before the fake shows up.”

“The fake?”

I turned to Cassandra, my eyes going slightly glassy. I had to pretend in some form or another about my so-called abilities, and visions seemed to be a way around that.

“The Lord Seeker is not who he appears to be. I want to see if I can get as many Templars away from his grasp as possible, Seekers too.”

I walked away before anyone could ask me what I meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly love the theory that the Ancient Elvhen, or at least those of the People were spirits that inhabited bodies of their own making rather than those of possession. 
> 
> _Undesirable Number One_ is a Harry Potter reference.  
>  _shem_ means quick, short for shemlen or quickling (Elvhen)  
>  _lethallin_ means friend, but is considered to be akin to cousin or even clansman. (Elvhen)  
>  _ma falon_ means my friend (Elvhen)  
>  _reth_ means protection/safety (Qunlat/Elvhen)  
>  _si_ means yes (Spanish)  
>  _sarebaas_ are mages under the rule of the Qun; Vashoth mages have their horns cut and their mouths are sewn shut.


	5. Discussions and Disgust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Addressing the Clerics in the Capital is one issue, but choosing what to wear to the soiree? Even bigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what direction this chapter went, but it certainly made a trip around regardless of where I planned it to go. I kind of wrote it all in one go and then slept on it for a week before looking at again and wondering what I actually wrote. I may have been worried about my marks from exams at the time, but I got results back today and all was good so it's time to post this whilst I get started on the next chapter.
> 
> I hope that you like it!

**In the Past, The Ruins of Ostagar, 9:30 Dragon**

_After retrieving the remaining pieces of Cailan’s armour, there was the small task of going back to pick up his body. It wasn’t something that any of us was looking forward to in the slightest, but it had to be done._

_“How are we going to get him down from there?”_

_It was a dilemma that we were now facing, trying to get Cailan’s body down from its place on the bridge._

_“Is there a way to levitate His Majesties body down from that height?”_

_“We could.”_

_The way in which the others looked towards Morrigan and I told us that no, that was only going to be an option when everything else failed._

_“There has got to be a ladder around here somewhere.”_

_Luckily there was, which Sten held steady as Kana climbed up it to cut the deceased King’s bonds starting with the ones at his feet._

_“Alistair, would you be able to hold onto his waist?”_

_There were deep tear tracks on the man's face as he climbed the ladder to hold onto the King’s waist as Kana undid the ropes around his wrists and neck. The two of them gently lifted the king down from the ladder and onto a piece of cloth that had at one time been the Fereldan flag but was now covered in the blood and dirt of its country and men._

_“Do we bury him?”_

_That was the question on everyone’s mind, I just voiced it._

_“No.”_

_Alistair hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the body, “I want to give him a proper burial, a proper funeral. He was King, he deserved better.”_

_I looked towards Morrigan, who was standing off to the side._

_“Do you know any stasis spells? Something that would be able to keep the body as it currently is until we’re able to give him a funeral?”_

_Alistair whipped his head around to stare at the Witch, both hope and dismay on his face. Morrigan looked a little shocked to be asked and seemed to be uncomfortable by Alistair’s stare as she moved closer to us. Probably wasn’t entirely used to someone looking at her without disdain, or condensation._

_“I could freeze the body, use a sigil to keep him preserved. But I am not sure how long it would hold, I have never had to use it for…”_

_She wasn’t as callous as she liked to believe as she stopped speaking before she could say something that she regretted._

_“Do it, please.” Kana almost begged and Morrigan complied, placing the sigil on the now wrapped cloth and freezing the body in place._

_At least Cailan’s body wouldn’t decompose anymore than it already had. It was a sad ending to a reign that should have been prosperous and fulfilling, not coming to a premature end at the hands of essentially plague-ridden rats who carry weaponry other than the plague._

_“We will need a cart if we are to bring the body back to camp.”_

* * *

 

**In the Past, Imperial Highway Camp, 9:30 Dragon**

_The walk back to the camp seemed longer than what it actually was, and with our extra cargo it just dragged on forever. Alistair had refused to let go of the sword we had found, he claimed that it was Duncan’s and we left him to it. Ostagar was going to be nothing but bad memories for him and Kana, and it had taken a lot of courage to even go back there despite knowing what they may or may not find amongst the ruins._

_Being back there could have brought about all of our deaths. We just got lucky._

_Warbari had found us on the road back, colliding with Kana in a parody of a hug. Both he and the wolf-dog seemed to get along quite well after they stared at each other for a few minutes, much to Kana and Morrigan’s dismay and mine and Alistair's happiness._

_“What are you going to name them?”_

_Leliana questioned, as she petted Warbari with a forlorn look on her face. Probably thinking about nugs if I knew anything about her, and I did. Not just from the games, but in Lothering as well where she had kept a small number of nugs in a back pen of the chantry that the children of the village used to go and pet if Huan, the Hawke family marbari was off hunting._

_“Cù-sìth.”_

_I hadn’t really needed to think about it, the name just felt like the obvious choice given the situation that we all found ourselves in and the place where the hound had found us._

_“Cù-sìth? I’m not familiar with that name. What does that mean?”_

_I could have told her a lie, but I didn’t want to; I just wanted someone else to know of a single story from my_ home _._

_“Back home, there was a legend of a hound that was a harbinger of death, and who would let out three terrifying barks that either meant death or as a warning. That was Cù-sìth.”_

_Leliana was taken aback, “That’s…morbid.”_

_“But fitting in our current time?”_

_“Yes, I suppose so.”_

_I was thankful that she didn’t ask me where I was from, but I could see that she wanted to but did not seem to be able to find the words. Back in Lothering, there had been quite a few people who had tried to intimidate the strange elf for information or to bully me into doing what they wanted. It never worked, especially not when Carver found out._

_No one liked it when Carver Hawke was angry with you. If Carver was angry with you, Bethany would follow and then so would Hafren._

_Hath no fury like a Hawke angered. (Or something like that.)_

_Cailan’s body was safely tucked away in a compartment of Bodhan’s cart; he was very confused when we had brought it back but once we said who it was he understood completely. He was still very uncomfortable about it, but he did understand._

_Sandal hadn’t taken his eyes off of the body since we had placed it there either, but somehow Bodhan hadn’t noticed that yet. The others had, and found it odd but did not feel up to doing anything about it. Setting up camp was more important._

_“Sandal? Are you okay?”_

_Ever since meeting the dwarf there was something_ off _about him. His eyes were almost glowing at times, and I couldn’t help but think of that prophecy he had told my in game to Hafren in Dragon Age II. The one that foretold the return of magic amongst other things._

_“The King doesn’t know what to do, he’s scared that we will all die. But we won’t, she won’t let us.”_

_Another of his cryptic prophecies, but I suppose not so much to me. The King could definitely be in reference to Alistair and she was probably Kana, or Morrigan. Maybe Flemythal._

_“Of course she won’t let us, Sandal. We’ve got so much work to do.”_

_Whoever_ she _happened to be it probably didn’t matter considering none of us really wanted to die._

_He looked up at me with his piercing gaze, looking for something and once he had found what he was looking for cheered up considerably clapping his hands together._

_“Yes! Yes! The scythe understands!”_

_Sandal looked back towards where Cailan now lay. The scythe could have referred to anyone, a farmer even, but my weapon. It looked awfully like a scythe that could be seen to be held by Grim Reapers._

_“He hasn’t woken yet, but it won’t be long now.”_

_I shivered, the weight of his words bearing down on me. There was only one person I could think of when he spoke of_ him _._

_The Dread Wolf._

* * *

 

**Present Time, Val Royeaux, 9:41 Dragon**

Ser Barris wasn’t difficult to locate, as he had not made his way up onto the platform yet, neither had some of the other Templars. Only clerics stood there, discussing in loud voices the supposed ‘Herald of Andraste’.

I could see the Templar Recruiter that had been in Haven a week or so beforehand who had been trying to tempt the Templars who had survived the Conclave away from the Inquisition. I wasn’t sure of his intentions there, but now I was sure.

The man had to be a recruiter for Corypheus or at least one of the Templars that knew what was going on. He also wasn’t able to disguise his Tevinter accent as well as he thought he had. He hadn’t been successful there and all I could do was hope he wouldn’t be here. There was something incredibly off about him like there was a constant oily feel to the man whenever I so much as made eye contact, which I tried to do sparingly.

The man I was there to see was looking at the ground, almost as though he were in prayer. He probably was, there was a lot of people praying around the area at that particular moment.

“Ser Barris? If I may have a word?”

The man in questions lifted his head, his face gaunt and eyes blinking in rapid succession.

“You may. With whom am I speaking to?”

Well, he was certainly very proper and polite even to an elf. _Especially_ to an elf.

That was a single gold star to him so far.

“Mallorn Tuilë,”

There was a small light of recognition in his eyes but he didn’t say anything, only nodding at me to continue.

“I would like to offer you personal an intervention to at least speak with members of the Inquisition, and perhaps any Templars that you would recommend. I have heard and seen some things about much of the Order that shows something is going terribly badly.”

He seemed to think on it for a moment, his face showing shock and discomfort at the picture I had given him, before speaking.

“You’ve supposedly never been wrong,”

I had been, but I wasn’t going to say that to him. Not if I could potentially save a group of people despite disliking their ideals.

“If I can, I will try my best.”

He gave me a salute and walked off towards the platform.

I supposed it was now showtime, as Callon and the others could be seen walking around the corner. Templars were now joining the clerics on top of the platform, almost a mockery of a stage show if one were to look for similarities.

Standing in Callon’s way was a group of guards, as well as a Lord who gestured mockingly at Callon, Kaiden and Solas in particular, ignoring Varric and Cassandra for the most part

“Stand wary Guardsman! The Inquisition is here.. along with the _Herald of Andraste._ ”

I had not heard a title being so spat out since Kana had been named the Hero of Fereldan and some uptight racist nobles had gotten wind of it.

The masked man's companion snorted, “They say that they found the knife ear covered with the Divines blood.”

Another gave a sigh and addressed the other two, “Let him and his _Inquisition_ pass. They will be the templars problem now. And they will fix it.”

They slowly let them pass, but not without mocking gestures of grandeur. I walked towards them, shaking my head as I did so.

“These people have gotten so used to their gilded walls they have no idea of the poison that has begun to feature beneath the surface.”

I made no move to quite my voice, hearing the shocked gasps and outraged cries around me from my comment, but it did the job. Callon’s dour face lit up with a small smile, so I called it a victory.

“That seems to be the case, _ma falon._ ”

“Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!  Together we mourn our Divine, her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery!  You wonder what will become of her murderer.  Well, wonder no more!  Behold the so-called Herald of Andraste!  Claiming to rise where our beloved fell.  We say this is a false prophet!  The Maker would send no elf in our hour of need!”

Callon scowled but still addressed the gathering of people, “You say I am the enemy.  The Breach in the sky is our true enemy.  We must unite to stop it.”

“It’s true!  The Inquisition seeks only to end this madness before it is too late!”

Cassandra hoped, by the expression on her face, that her being there would help with the Inquisition’s legitimacy.

It did not work if the looks of both the Templars and the clerics were anything to go by.

“It is already too late!  The Templars have returned to the Chantry!  They will face this  _Inquisition_ and the people will be safe once more.”

This particular Mother was really getting on my nerves, but I had noticed most in her position did whenever I had met one. Elves weren’t welcome, not really, in the Chantry and definitely not mouthy elves like myself who were known to speak up against the abuses of the institution to all that would listen.

The demon wearing Lord Seeker Lucius’ form appeared from the side of the platform, where he directed a templar already under his control, you could tell if you looked closely and I was. The sight red glow of blighted lyrium was there in the eyes and under the skin, to strike the Chantry Mother.

The punch knocked her off of her feet, with Barris moving to help her.

“Still yourself.  She is beneath us.”

Barris paid him no mind, ignoring the Lord Seeker as he helped the woman sit up, pressing cloth to her bloodied face.

“What are you doing, Templar?”

“Helping protect the innocent, Lord Seeker.”

“You’re not here to deal with the Inquisition?”

Callon brought the demons attention onto him, the conversation in front of us heading towards a full-blown argument if someone didn’t step in.

“As if there were any reason too.”

That would have stung more if the man wasn’t currently an Envy Demon.

Cassandra was looking back and forth, unsure as to whether or not she should step in.

“Lord Seeker Lucius, it’s imperative that we speak with–“

“You will not address me.”

A flash of hurt went across her face at his sharp words.

“Lord Seeker?”

She sounded close to tears. He pointedly walked past her, not looking in our direction.

“Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste’s prophet.  You should be ashamed.  You should all be ashamed!  The Templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages!  You are the ones who have failed!  You who’d leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear!  If you came to appeal to the Chantry, you are too late.  The only destiny here that demands respect is mine.”

“And we would give you respect, but you have not earned any.”

This caused the figure to turn and glare at me, “And who are you to say that?”

A harsh laugh left my lips.

“I could be your worst nightmare.”

He clearly did not know what to make of that comment and dismissed me without another word.

“If you’re not here to help the Chantry, then you just came to make speeches?”

Callon looked much like a wolf pup in that moment, confused and slightly vicious bearing his teeth to an invader stalking them as if they were prey.

“I came to see what frightens old women so, and to laugh.”

“Oh yes, you are _definitely_ worthy of respect now,” Kaiden muttered sarcastically, but he was loud enough that those closest to us were able to hear the words spoken.

“But Lord Seeker…what if he really was sent by the Maker?  What if–?”

Barris had helped the Chantry mother to her feet, sitting her down on a stool. He looked towards me and I nodded, if he wanted to help then this was the moment.

“You are called to a higher purpose!  Do not question! I will make the templar Order a power that stands alone against the Void.  We deserve recognition.  Independence!  You have shown me nothing, and the Inquisition…less than nothing.  Templars!  Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection!  We march!”

The Templars started to leave, with Barris lagging behind slightly.

“The Lord Seeker seems, well, not himself. I will try and help where I can. If I go with them, I may find others who are also willing to help.”

I nodded, and said the only words I could think of in a situation such as this.

“Good luck.”

He left and I could only hope that he would be okay, he seemed like a good person and this world needed more good people.

* * *

 

The letter from Madame de Fer was as exquisite as I thought it would be, the ink being made of gold and the paper covered with a gold leaf that would have been worth at least several weeks worth of meals alone.

It also made me feel quite ill with fury.

The wealth around here was obscene, and yet there were beggars on the streets that these people ignored without thought.

Callon had passed it on to me after it had been given to him by the servant, curious and wary of the intentions behind the woman.

On the other hand, the letter from Sera and the Red Jennies was a haphazardly scrawled piece of parchment that had clearly been put under some dirt at one point or another.

“It would be wise to go, despite any reservations that we might have to her intentions.”

Solas, playing the ever concerned mentor, was right. It wasn’t that I disliked Vivienne, on the contrary I greatly respected her from my memories of her in the game and what I had heard about her in the World now. But just because I respected her, didn’t mean that I couldn’t be suspicious of her.

This was pretty much how I felt about Solas.

“I agree.”

Cassandra had agreed, so it looked as though Callon was going.

“Would you come with me?”

This question startled me, as I honestly did not expect it.

“You really want me there?”

He nodded, “I would feel much more comfortable with someone I trust there.”

I was touched that he trusted me, considering the short time that we had known each other.

“Kaiden?”

His friend raised their hands, shaking their head.

“I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

Callon was indignant.

“Why not?”

“You have seen me, haven’t you?”

“Hard not to miss you sometimes.”

Kaiden pouted, glaring at their friend while Callon sighed in defeat, understanding why Kaiden did not wish to accompany him.

“Fine.” He turned to the other mage in the room, “Solas?”

“If you would like me to join you both, I will not say no.”

I rolled my eyes, unseen by the others.

“At least there will be little frilly cakes.”

Solas perked up at this.

* * *

 

Callon disliked this place. Too much gold, not enough trees.

Not to mention he was being forced into going shopping by the Seeker, who said that the three attending needed to be dressed _appropriately_ for the occasion. Which meant no armour, he would have to wear proper shoes, maybe even make an attempt at styling his hair and wouldn’t be able to take in any weaponry. Probably.

“This colour is good.”

Mallorn was holding up a dark blue toned material, that seemed to shift patterns in the dim light of the shop.

“Perhaps a lighter shade?”

The attendant was trying their best to override whatever decisions that they had come up with, because according to a customer that had walked out in a huff when they entered, ‘ _Elves knew nothing of fashion’_ they said before slamming the door shut.

They were a human, a noble by the looks of it and were seemingly shocked by the group of elves that walked into the shop like they belonged there.

“I do like this one.”

Callon pointed to a shade of blue-green that reminded him of his _vallaslin_.

Mallorn gave a humming noise, “That’s a good one. And it's a sturdy enough material that you could get away wearing it in a fight if you needed to.”

“Do you suspect we will be getting into many fights at this soiree?”

Solas had picked up a deep purple, so dark it was almost black brocade that he then handed over to the attendant. “I think this particular one would be good.”

“Fights, perhaps not. But we are three elves headed into a place dominated with humans.” Grinning Mallorn turned to face them, “Historically it is our best bet.”

There was silence amongst the three of them, as the attendant bundled up the fabric they had decided on, wrapping it neatly and tying it up with twine before handing it to Mallorn.

“The tailor is in the next room.”

The small woman ushered them out of the way in a hurry, as though they were halting her business and Callon couldn’t help but wonder why; there wasn’t anyone else around to be impeded by their presence.The tailor in the other room was, however, increasingly enthusiastic as he took in the sigil of the Inquisition as the three elves walked in.

“You must be the Herald?”

Callon held back a sneer but nodded.

“I prefer Callon.”

“That is fair, it must be a heavy load on your shoulders.”

It was nice to know that someone outside of his small group of people had noticed that.

“It is.”

Callon wasn’t going to sugar coat it.

The tailor got to work, measuring each elf in a private alcove and away from the entrance. Callon had been measured for clothing before, mostly old pieces that had been passed down by various clan members, but only so that they would fit on him. This was an entirely new experience; clothing that would be expressly made for him and to fit his exact measurements was a luxury he had never thought he would be granted.

Solas and Mallorn looked almost bored at the proceedings. Callon couldn’t help but wonder if the two had been through this before.

The tailor was attempting to fit Mallorn into a dress of some sort, but she was refusing each of the mans suggestions. They were too much according to Mallorn.

“If I am going to wear a dress, it will be comfortable and flexible enough to move around in.”

“But Messere, this is a soirée hosted by Madame de Fer! You cannot be seen in anything less than the best! It could ruin you and the Inquisition!”

“No, these are too much. If you have something a little less _poofy_ and a little more _slinky_ then maybe I will consider wearing a gown. Besides, I will not cater to the whims of humans if I can help it, they have taken enough from us as it is. My choices are my own.”

Callon had no idea what she meant by _poofy_ or _slinky_ and when he turned towards Solas, the older elf shook his head. He didn’t know either, but they both agreed with her statement about humans and the taking of anything Elvhen and replacing it with their own.

It turns out the tailor did not, so the two continued to debate over designs even as the tailors assistant finished with Solas and Callon’s measurements, showing them a selection of designs that they could modify to suit their needs.

Callon disliked the pantaloons that were a trait of almost all the designs, but there was one design that suited him nicely.A tailored pair of slacks that could be used outdoors, or at least if the correct material was used, and a vest that would be embroidered with what looked to be Elvhen influenced patterns. There was also a cloak that hung off of the shoulder, fur on the side that the cloak was not.

Callon loved it.

Solas had picked something a little less _extra_ than what Callon had chosen but stuck with a similar theme.

“We are to present a united front, are we not? It would be best if we all matched in some way.”

Mallorn, having heard Solas grinned at them in agreement.

“If there is something similar to the vest that Callon and Solas are getting made, or at least the designs on it?”

The tailor nodded, pulled out a sketch pad and got to work designing something else. Once he had finished he showed the three elves the design, which Mallorn immediately approved of.

“These will be done by the day after next! It will be so wonderful to be endorsed by the Inquisition!”

* * *

 

“I would not have thought you to be so interested in fashion, Mallorn?”

Callon wanted to know more about the woman behind the Reaper, talking to her about this would hopefully help.

“I’m not particularly, I just know what I like and Orlesian fashion is not it. Orlesians have such outrageous or at least not particularly endearing fashion statements for the most part, Fereldans are more about the practicality as well as showing a more conservative style. Well, the nobles at least.”

“What about the Dalish?”

She thought about it for a moment before answering.

“They’re incredibly practical, but use embellishments incredibly well. The embroidery that was on Kana’s cloak was absolutely stunning and attempting to replicate it was harder than what I thought it would be.”

Callon was now shocked, Dalish embroidery was almost a lost art with only a few of the People knowing how to do it left in the Clans around the Free Marches. He hadn’t known about anyone still practising the craft in Fereldan.

“When Kana found me trying to replicate it, she was a little angry but I had to point out to her that I too am an elf and that it’s technically my history too.”

Solas interjected at this point, “Most Dalish I have met distrust even other elves, especially those from the cities. For the Hero of Fereldan to actually look past that prejudice and help you is astonishing.”

“I know, and I’m incredibly thankful that she helped me with it.” She took in a deep breath, before continuing. “Honestly the method is so much nicer than any other embroidery practice that I have seen.”

“I have to agree.”

Solas nodded, despite not voicing his own opinions. It was clear to Callon that he didn’t think much of the Dalish. A part of him wondered why Solas seemed so disapproving of the culture but at the same time, he could understand, at least a little. The Dalish weren’t always welcoming of outsiders, regardless of race and gender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I fell down the meta hole whilst looking for transcripts of cutscenes which is how this chapter ended up containing a headcanon of mine about elvish (or Dalish) embroidery. I feel like this would be a piece of their culture that they would keep tight to their hearts, and only those that are Keepers or Firsts or the craftsmen of the Clan would know about the correct ways in which embroidery traditionally would go. (This headcanon of mine is a bit inspired by both the Elvhen mosaics and the Ancient Elvhen Robes that you can find, if I'm remembering correctly, in the Elvhen Baths.)
> 
>  _Cù-sìth_ was a feared harbinger of death, similar to that of the Grim Reaper in Scottish folklore. I thought it fitting to name the wolf dog after this mythological hound.


	6. The Great Frilly Cake Heist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the past, the gates of Orzammar open. In the present, well the frilly cakes are certainly a hit with the elves!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a lot more of the past written and the present in this chapter and think that is why I feel like it's more of a transitional chapter, a filler if you will, before the story gets into the action. 
> 
> I hope that you enjoy this chapter regardless!

**In the Past, Frostback Mountains, Honnleath, 9:30 Dragon**

_The town of Honnleath was almost deserted, with groups of darkspawn picking off whatever survivors were left. They were taken care of by Sten and Alistair, who both bulldozed them over with their swords and shields._

_“That’s taken care of, we should probably look around.”_

_Shale was standing frozen in the middle of the town, overlooking the carnage that the darkspawn had created._

_“Wait just a moment, I need to do something.”_

_I wanted to clean the bird droppings off of Shale before they were able to move again. Hopefully, that would give me a few extra approval points in the long run._

_“You go ahead, I will stay with Mallorn.”_

_I think that was the first time I had heard Sten say my name. The others were slightly wary, but I shooed them off._

_“We will be fine, if anything happens we have Cu-sith and Warbari.”_

_The two dogs were happily chasing a group of pigeons away from Shale as we spoke._

_“Ok, but shout if you need us.”_

_“We shall.”_

_And thus, Sten and I were alone with darkspawn corpses and a frozen golem who needed cleaning._

_I walked over to the golem, looking them over to see where they needed cleaning the most. Their shoulders and head, as well as their outstretched arm._

_There was a small water pump and bucket in the courtyard, that I filled halfway up and then dumped a small batch of lavender and prophet’s laurel into it and a torn strip of fabric from my satchel._

_“Sten, would you be able to give me a lift?”_

_“Whatever for?”_

_“This golem needs washing, I don’t believe that they appreciate having bird poo all over them.”_

_If Sten found this strange, he didn’t say but lifted me onto his shoulders so that I was able to reach Shale’s shoulders and head better. I still had to reach to get into the stone crevices of Shale’s shoulders, but by the end of it, they were cleaner than they were previously._

_“I hope that helps.”_

_At this, Sten did look at me strangely._

_“Are you talking to the golem?”_

_“Yes I am. They may not be able to move at the moment, but I can almost guarantee that they’re awake.”_

_“Fascinating.”_

_The two of us, three if you included Shale and five if you included the two dogs waited until the others returned an hour later with a control rod and a story to tell._

* * *

 

_We were attacked by genlocks almost as soon as we had left Honnleath._

_Cu-sith made a welcome entrance, flattening a group of genlocks as they poured out of nowhere. Snarling, the large jaws of the wolf-dog broke through the lines of darkspawn. The darkspawn didn’t know what had hit them, as Cu-sith was so quick. Warbari followed quickly behind, the two of them making a brilliant tag-team. One would surprise, whilst the other attacked._

_The wolf-dog, bloodied maw and entrail covered fur, grinned at us before shooting off after Warbari and towards another small group that had appeared out of the forest._

_“I do hope that the Clan is okay, there are so many darkspawn around at the moment and more to come.”_

_Kana had stated once we had finished fighting, cleaning off her bloodied weapons._

_“They’re tough, all elves are.” I looked her directly in the eyes, “To be perfectly honest, they’re probably more prepared than any other group in Fereldan let alone Thedas at the moment.”_

_Beside us, Morrigan had dumped a torrent of water on the two dogs, understandably annoyed as Warbari and Cu-sith attempted to cover her in slobber and blood in a happy greeting._

_“Ugh, disgusting little wretches.”_

_We could hear a smile in her voice, even as she sneered at the two cheerfully barking beneath the stream of water._

_“We should get going! Not too far to go to Orzammar now!” There was a grin in Alistair's voice, even at the sound of a low growl when Sten started to scold the other man for being too loud._

_“Do you ever think that man is sometimes far too cheerful?” I asked, turning to Kana. She grinned and shrugged._

_“We need cheer in times like this.”_

_Leliana had heard us, walking past._

_“Definitely, but seriously the man is_ sunshine _.”_

_The women laughed, bar Morrigan who smiled a small barely noticeable smile. Our laughter caused Sten and Alistair to turn around and face us, confused._

_“We must leave.”_

_Sten was gruff, but he meant well._

* * *

 

**Present Time, Ghislain Estate, 9:41 Dragon**

The lack of action I undertook in not exposing Envy posing as the Lord Seeker was always going to haunt me, but I wasn’t too sure as to what action I would be able to take without potentially endangering innocent people. Innocents that would happily denounce any and all help from us, that I could guarantee, and would have probably blamed us specifically for the demon that was in their midst.

I could only hope that Ser Barris would be able to convince some of the more reasonable templars that this wasn’t the way to go forward.

The few days spent in Val Royeaux before the party were _interesting_.

After meeting with the Red Jenny, Sera, there had been very little combat.

I couldn’t be sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The morning after we had met up with Sera, we travelled to the tailors to pick up our fitted garments. Each outfit was a shade of rich lapis lazuli, accented with turquoise and dark purple.

_No Inquisition red, thank the gods._

The shop assistant insisted on visiting us later that day to help properly attire ourself for the evening. We declined her help, but she was persistent. Apparently, she wanted to see us dressed in our finery before we left, partially to brag to others that she helped the burgeoning Inquisition Inner Circle.

I suspected that there was more to it, there generally was, but we did let her know that she was welcome to come meet us before we left. She took us up on that offer, even going so far as to bring along a set of heavy gloves for Callon, a wrist grip for Solas and an enchanted necklace for myself.

It was all good for business, she said as she left, making a show of things.

As night drew in, I began to second guess the decision for me to come along. Solas, on the other hand, seemed to be looking forward to it. I suppose that it was probably the closest thing he would get to Arlathan until the ball at Halamshiral, but even that I suspected would pale in comparison.

Varric would have been the best choice to bring along, but he didn’t feel that it would be a good idea at the time. He said something about the last time he was in Orlais at a soiree there had been dungeons and wyverns, with harlequins at each turn and not a single moment to be able to promote his book.

(He said the last part jokingly, but went silent when Cassandra glared at him.)

That left the hedge mage and myself, both elves and both not looking forward to being surrounded by pompous humans who looked down on us.

 _Anything for the Inquisition, right?_ Leliana owed me for this. _Maybe some nice ink? Or even chocolate._

“I feel ridiculous.”

Callon was tugging on the vest, not used to the tightness of the piece of clothing.

“You don’t look it.”

He did look uncomfortable though, more used to his hunting gear.

Kaiden wolf-whistled at him as he walked past, causing the tips of his ears to flush bright red.

“We must get going, we wouldn’t want to be late.”

I rolled my eyes. Solas had slept for over a thousand years, the man had been incredibly late.

“There is a carriage outside waiting to take you to Madame de Fer’s soiree.” Cassandra was eyeing each of our outfits with a combination of disdain and curiosity, having clearly not expected us to wear what we were.

City elves generally didn’t go all-in for finery, the majority of them too poor to do so and even if they were able to, humans would always ruin it. The Dalish on the other hand generally didn’t have a need to wear fancy clothing, except for when the Arlathven came around.

 _Then_ it was a show.

Kana had taken leave of her duties for a single week, inviting a small group of us along to join in with the festivities and rites. It was something that we had enjoyed immensely, even if it had ended with a group of rogue Templars attempting to arrest a group of young mages who had been practising openly.

* * *

 

The announcer had read through the list of names multiple times over, his eyes disbelieving even as he did so.

Surely these names couldn’t be correct? The so-called Herald was an elf! A Dalish elf at that! Surely the Chantry had been able to put a stop to the so-called Inquisition before it had begun, but apparently not so as the names of their representatives were written there on parchment in heavy black ink.

“Announcing Lord Lavellan, on behalf of the Inquisition.”

A silence filled the room as the blond male stepped forward, dressed, unlike any elf he had ever seen before in his life.

The leather pants were tightly fitted to his legs, accentuating toned muscles from running and riding Halla. His vest was heavily embroidered, it looked to be Elven, but the man had no idea if it was or not and suspected that the elf wouldn’t say the velvet vest was worn over the top of a high collared cream shirt. The cloak he had donned was flowing, hanging off of one shoulder with a heavy-looking pouldron and strap holding the cloak in place.

The turquoise accents on the outfit complimented the tattoos on the elves face, which stood out even more in the light of the entranceway.

Weren’t the Dalish supposed to be savages?

“Announcing Lady Tüile, on the behalf of the Inquisition.”

The announced almost stuttered over his own words, tongue getting twisted at the language he was speaking. This was The Reaper! _What was she doing here?_

Either the nobles here had no idea who she was or they were stupid because the chatter had slightly picked up again.

The other blonde elf, a woman stepped out into the light. Her colour scheme matched the other blond, the dress she was wearing had a large split up her right leg, going to her mid-thigh. The dress was incredibly high collared and had sheer long sleeves covered in embroidery to match the Lord Lavellan. The dress would have been scandalous if it was a human wearing it, but an elf?

Even more shocking!

As she walked onwards, the announcer noticed a long train protruding from the back of her dress. It should have been dirty, dragging on the ground as it was, but the garment seemed to be levitating off of the ground and out of the way of everyone that it came into contact with.

Shuddering, he turned away.

He didn’t much like magic, regardless of how pretty it may have looked.

Finally, to the last of the trio, an older looking bald elf who had eyes that pierced the human where he stood.

He had to take a deep breath before he continued to speak, “Announcing Ser Solas, on behalf of the Inquisition.”

No title then, _thank the Maker._

The bald elf matched the other two, the jewel tones created a cohesive unit that none of the other guests seemed to match. This elf, however, wore a very large black wolf pelt around his shoulders attached to a cloak; it would have dwarfed every other elf he knew but didn’t seem to with the man. He stood behind the other two, almost like a guard, but the announcer knew that wasn’t all he was.

The three of them definitely made a picture to look at, good or bad, the guests of Madame de Fer were in awe and shock at the newcomers not really noticing that they were doing so.

The announcer had tuned out a large portion of the conversation that the new guests were having, but he certainly couldn’t tune out the sound of a man being frozen solid and the clicking of heels as they made their way down the stairs.

Everyone now had eyes on the frozen man, the three elves and the First Enchanter herself strutting down the stairs.

“My _dear_ Marquis, how _unkind_ of you to use _such_ language in _my_ _house_ to _my_ _guests_.”

She now stood directly in front of the Herald and his companions, who each stared at the masked woman without emotion on their faces. This surprised the announcer, he hadn’t noticed that neither the men nor the woman wore masks, and to be able to hide emotions well enough to not need them was a compliment of the highest order.

“You know such rudeness is _intolerable_.”

“Madame Vivienne, _I humbly beg your pardon._ ” The frozen Marquis struggled to speak the words, nervousness clear in his tone. It was obvious to everyone that this was going to be a moment of life or death for the Marquis Alphonse.

“You should.” The First Enchanter walked around the meet the Marquis in the eyes, “Whatever am I going to do with you, _my_ _dear_?”

“My lord, you’re the wounded party in this unfortunate affair. What would you have me do with this foolish, foolish man?”

She addressed the Herald directly, nodding towards both Lady Tüile and Ser Solas before looking back at Lord Lavellan; the Lord Lavellan looked tempted to just kill him but sighed before replying.

“I think the Marquis has seen the _error_ of his ways.”

Madame de Fer grabbed the Marquis by his chin, lifting it up before snapping her fingers.

“By the Grace of Andraste, you have your life, my dear. _Do be more careful with it_.”

The frozen man stumbled, shivering and coughing into his fist. He seemed to struggle to keep his balance, before shakily standing up straight and walking towards the announcer.

“If you will excuse me, I believe that I would like a word with the Marquis. Callon, Solas, Madame de Her.”

That was unexpected, as Lady Tüile gracefully walked out after the Marquis, catching up with him in no time and pulling him aside.

The announcer wondered what that was all about, but realised that it was none of his business despite the gossip mill that churned in Orlais.

The announcer did not get paid enough for this amount of drama. He was only thankful that he did not have to clean up any blood, and all he had to do was announce people to the room at large.

* * *

 

I wasn’t sure why I decided to go after the Marquis, but the Inquisition needed all the support that we were able to get.

“Excuse me, Marquis? Do you have a moment?”

“What do you want, _rabbit_?”

Ah, he was going to be one of _those_.

“ _I do hope that you watch your tongue, it does seem to me that Madame de Fer has eyes and ears everywhere and I would hate to so you suffer after my friend had just spared your life._ ”

He went white, not out of anger but out of fear. “Y..yes.”

The Marquis took in a deep breath, “What did you wish to discuss, my lady?”

That respect was not going to last all too long, regardless of my bloody reputation, but I would take it while it lasted. We spoke in twisted, barbed and hidden words for another twenty minutes before I managed to convince him to support the Inquisition, even if in a minor position.

We needed all the help that we could get.

* * *

 

“How did your conversation with the Marquis go?”

Solas asked, curious as he watched the guests chat amongst themselves and not so subtly watch Callon and Madame Vivienne over by the window.

“It was _interesting_ , but I believe that we may have an ally. Or at least someone who isn’t going to denounce us further.”

The Marquis had left quickly after we had spoken, giving me an elaborate bow before rushing out of the entrance, almost sprinting in his haste to leave.

“Still, another noble on our side would be a boon.”

“Yes, but an Orlesian noble always have an agenda of their own.”

Solas gave me a dry look, taking a sip from his half-empty champagne glass. I also couldn’t believe that the man was wearing what he was. A black wolf pelt cloak, could he get any more obvious?

Probably, but he seemed to be enjoying himself and had a small pile of frilly cakes in a cloth napkin beside him. I gave him a pointed stare

“These frilly cakes are quite nice.”

Solas seemed utterly cheerful, as he wrapped them up and placed them in a pocket beneath his cloak.

“You’re making a stash of them.”

I stated dryly, even as he grabbed a few more from a passing waiter, offering one to me. I took it from his outstretched hand and popped it into my mouth.

It reminded me of _tres_ _leches_ cake but with a buttercream frosting, covered in chocolate. I couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh. I could see now why he was making a stash of them, they were _divine_.

He laughed, delighted. 

“See now why I’m making a stash of them?”

“I may have to grab a few for myself!”

* * *

 

**In the Past, Frostback Mountains, Entrance to the Great Thaig Orzammar, 9:30 Dragon**

_The bandits had been expected, but not in quite so numerous numbers. The group of us managed to take them out quickly and silently, picking up some loot along the way (including a helm that had been worn by a Knight-Commander that would be worth a bit of coin if none of us wanted to wear it), before making our way up towards the entrance to Orzammar._

_“Fine dwarves crafts! Get your fine dwarves crafts here! Direct from Orzammar!”_

_Those words would haunt my dreams. Back home they were funny, something only heard in_ Origins _but now it was everywhere, like a song stuck on repeat._

_“Why do they feel the need to announce that? This is the entrance to Orzammar!”_

_Morrigan took one look at the utter despair on my face and burst into laughter, scaring Alistair and Kana in the process. None of us there had seen Morrigan laugh, smirk perhaps but not laugh wholeheartedly._

_“I’m glad that you find my suffering funny, Morrigan.”_

* * *

_Everything seemed to be going wrong at precisely the same time, which was singularly unhelpful for all._

_“King Loghain will not suffer the delay of his appointed messenger.”_

_Oh no, this guy._

_The dwarf that the messenger was speaking at rolled his eyes, clearly frustrated and worn at the messenger's constant attempts to enter into the city._

_“Enough! This land is held in trust for the sovereign dwarven kings and I cannot allow entry at this time._

_The messenger looked incensed at that, face tuning a sort of puce colour before he spoke again, anger and tension audible in his voice._

_“King Loghain demands the allegiance of the deshyr or lords or whatever you call them in your Assembly! I am his appointed messenger.”_

_“I don’t care if you’re the king's wiper, Orzammar will hold none but its own until the throne is settled.”_

_I snorted, Loghain was at most the King Regent but being compared to a servant who had that particular job made the messenger angrier as he let out a noise that could only be described as a furious but wounded beast._

_Kana took point, walking up towards the messenger and the guards with a defiant look on her face. Alistair stood on her left, almost as a shield in case things came to blows._

_“Excuse me, but my companions and I have incredibly important business in Orzammar.”_

_“None more important than mine.”_

_The messenger looked Kana up and down, before promptly dismissing her and our group._

_“Rude much.”_

_I muttered, causing Leliana to poke me between the ribs._

_“Shhh!”_

_The dwarf ignored us._

_“Your business will wait, Orzammar must limit outside influence until the throne has settled. No one gets in.”_

_The guard seemed exhausted all of a sudden. This must have been going on for weeks at this stage and I couldn’t blame him for his testiness._

_“Excuse me, but what do you mean by the throne has settled? I mean, only if you are able to answer.”_

_One of the other dwarven guards answered me instead._

_“His Majesty King Endrin Aeducan returned to the stone recently, not even three weeks ago and the throne is in contention between his highness Prince Behlen and Lord Pyral Harrowmont. If we were able to, we would tell you more but outsiders are not allowed to know more.”_

_That was more information than what I thought we were going to get, “Thank you and our condolences for the loss of your King.”_

_The dwarven guards looked shocked, not expecting the condolences given to them by outsiders._

_The messenger, on the other hand, scoffed, “More likely that they hide because they are dwarves.”_

_“Even if that were to be the case, you don’t have to be so incredibly crude.”_

_He was really grating on my nerves, Sten placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me still and preventing me from lunging towards him._

_“And what would a_ knife-ear _know?”_

_That certainly wouldn’t do him any favours in the eyes of anyone stood there._

_The dwarven guard who had been speaking when we arrived shot a glare at the messenger, before turning to our group and speaking in a softer tone than what he had before._

_“The Assembly has gone through dozens and dozens of votes without selecting a successor, if it is not settled soon we risk civil war.”_

_“I am so incredibly sorry for the poor timing, but I have a set of Ancient Treaties created for the Grey Wardens. We desperately need our dwarven allies at this time.”_

_Kana looked stricken, as did Alistair. If we were unable to gain allies, all of Thedas was doomed._

_At the mention of the Grey Wardens, the messenger's tone shifted._

_“The Wardens killed King Cailan at Ostagar! They’ve doomed Fereldan! They’re the sworn enemies of King Loghain!”_

_“Messenger, I do hope that you mean King_ Regent _Loghain. As far as any of us is aware the Queen Anora is still alive.”_

_He spluttered, the two men behind him not saying a word, deferring to the messenger's judgement._

_“And he hasn’t married his daughter, so I would assume that he is only helping her with her duties.”_

_“Why you!”_

_He moved to strike me, but Sten’s presence seemed to deter him as he moved to stand in front of me. Shale moved to stand behind our group, their large body clearly impacting on the stone underneath their feet._

_“Perhaps it could move back into line.”_

_The messenger’s eyes widened in fear, both at the golem and the Qunari and stepped back._

_For how large they were, Shale could disappear into the background very easily._

_The dwarf ignored us, looking over the treaties with a sharp eye. The papers were very old, but the writings and seals were all intact and very clearly legible._

_“Well that is the royal seal, that means only the Assembly has the means to address it. Grey Warden you and your companions may pass.”_

_“You’re letting in a traitor? A foreigner?”_

_Somehow being a foreigner was almost as bad as being a traitor in the eyes of Loghain’s messenger._

_“In the name of King Loghain,”_

_I coughed, “Regent.”_

_He narrowed his eyes at me but continued as though I hadn’t spoken._

_“I demand that you execute this… this stain on the honour of Fereldan!”_

_Kana stepped forward, eyeing the man. She didn’t even reach his nose, yet seemed far taller in her presence._

_“I believe, Ser Messenger, that Loghain will need the information that the Grey Wardens still live more so than he wants a war against the dwarves for the lack of decorum shown by his messenger correct? Or even against us, it would be best if you left and skittered back to your master.”_

_“You..you’ll hear of this! King Loghain will see you quartered!”_

_The messenger turned on his heel, the two silent men with him following behind._

_“KING REGENT LOGHAIN!”_

_I called after them, and you could hear them splutter. I burst into laughter, with Leliana giggling beside me._

_“Even if Loghain were King that messenger would be out of a job. No diplomat would be_ that _stupid or rude.”_

_Kana scoffed, “Humans are always rude.”_

_“Thank you, you have done us a service. That fool, Imrek, has been barking for a week. Are all humans so touched?”_

_Sten, Kana, Shale and I looked at each other. I was once human, but an elf in this world and the humans here, for the most part, were pretty shitty to anything that wasn’t human, had magic and didn’t believe in Andraste and the Maker._

_“Not all.” “Yes.” “Most of the time.”_

_Morrigan, Leliana and Alistair looked towards each other and shrugged. It was true, they couldn’t deny it._

_The dwarf laughed, “Honest. You are free to enter Orzammar Grey Wardens and companions. I’m unsure as to what help you will find though.”_

_The gates opened, gears and wheels turning loudly as we each got our first glimpse into the great thaig._

_“Good luck.”_

* * *

 

**Present Time, Ghislain Estate, 9:41 Dragon**

Callon wasn’t sure what to make of the First Enchanter.

She was certainly an incredibly driven woman, one with immense power and respect for the established authority, but he couldn’t be sure if she would fit within the structure of the Inquisition given the situation.

But help was help, and the power that Madame Vivienne had would be _very_ helpful indeed.

He was soon joined at the balcony by Mallorn and Solas, both had several small frilly cakes in their hands.

“Try this.”

Mallorn gave him one and he curiously bit into it.

He saw stars.

“What are these? They’re incredible!”

Solas grinned, suddenly looking years younger. “We honestly have no idea, but we may or may not have taken several trays of them.”

Mallorn nodded, also grinning. “We now have a small bag of them, a secret stash if you will.”

Callon looked between the two of them and then back into the ballroom. The two older elves looked far too pleased with themselves.

“I wonder if we wouldn’t be able to get another few trays into that bag of yours, after all, we need nourishment for our trip back to Haven.”

* * *

 

By the end of the night, the three elves of the Inquisition had managed to pilfer another three trays of frilly cakes into the bag that Solas hid beneath his cloak.

The caterers would forever wonder at the number of cakes that Duke Bastien de Ghislain’s guests had eaten, a record number for such a small gathering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Tres leches cakes_ are a sponge cake, or in some cases a butter cake soaked in condensed, evaporated milks and cream. They’re not soggy due to the amount of air bubbles in the cake itself and are incredibly delicious. Now imagine that with frosting and chocolate on top.
> 
>  _King’s Wiper_ or also known as the Groom of the Stool and is pretty much exactly what it sounds like. They were usually a courtier that was responsible for the hygiene of the monarch after said monarch had utilised the stool (aka the toilet). It was pretty gender specific up until king Elizabeth I, when she appointed a First Lady of the Bedchamber, but went out of fashion shortly thereafter.


	7. The Hidden Blade by Panic! In the Deep Roads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic and surprises all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so pleased with the chapter title, you have no idea how much. It just makes me super happy and I honestly cannot believe that I actually thought it up.
> 
>  **WARNING** There is a discussion of both a panic attack and mentions of cannibalism (in the form of the Broodmother Poem from DA:O).

**Present Time, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

The three of us enjoyed our pilfered sweets on the trip back to Haven, giggling like children whenever the bag came up in conversation. By some miracle, we had managed to not eat any on the boat back from Val Royeaux, but all bets were off on the road to Haven.

Kaiden and Varric had a fair idea of what was going, both of them catching us with a cake in our mouths. We offered them some; Varric declined but Kaiden took a few while Cassandra ignored us entirely, in a hurry to get back to the Inquisition.

“We will have to speak with Leliana first and foremost.”

Giving the reigns of the horses to the stablehands, we each made our way up to the Chantry chapel.

Varric headed straight towards the tavern, muttering about needing a strong drink and perhaps a nap.

“Kaiden, Solas would you like to join us?”

Solas declined, “Perhaps not at the moment. I will seek out more information in the Fade.”

“I’ll come along, but if the spymaster kicks me out it’s not my fault.”

We pushed the door wide open, listening silently as two chantry sisters spoke about them not catering to the whims and demands of the old ladies in Val Royeaux as at least here they were doing something for the people.

“It’s good you’ve returned. We heard of your encounter.”

Josephine stepped out from behind one of the walls, sneakily and using her bard training that most people forgot that she had.

“You heard?” Cassandra sounded shocked, but her face said that she was not in the least bit surprised.

“My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course.” Leliana looked towards me, a smug grin on her face. “As did Mallorn’s.”

“You have agents?”

Callon turned to look at me, full of surprise.

“Perhaps.”

My answer was a confirmation in and of itself. 

“But I certainly wouldn’t call them agents, concerned friends maybe.”

Leliana snorted, "Yes, but they still answer to you."

"Not...ok, fine they do."

“It’s a shame the Templars have abandoned their senses as well as the capital.”

Cullen looked close to tearing his hair out.

“We now know how to approach both the mages and the templars now.”

“Do we? Lord Seeker Lucius is not the man I remembered.”

My mouth spoke before I even had a moment to think, “That’s because that wasn’t the Lord Seeker.”

Silence filled the room, no one moved a muscle as Cassandra screwed her face up in anger.

“What!” Cassandra turned on me, pointing a finger in my face. “Why did you not mention this sooner? Who else could that have been?”

“A. I didn’t mention it because, well _civilians._ And B. Well, let me ask you a simple question, who is normally able to take the shape of another and able to mimic them fairly well so that most aren’t able to tell?”

Kaiden spoke up, their voice quiet but strong. “Demons, spirits. They’re normally able to mimic and take the shape of another being, especially if they have the permission of the person involved. Solas would know more, wouldn’t he?”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Cullen, who ignored the question about Solas.

“Demons, why is it always fucking  _demons_?”

Cassandra looked almost apoplectic, looking like she was about to reach out her hands and strangle me.

“Should we send for Solas? He knows more about the Fade than anybody else.”

Callon asked, but Kaiden had already left to retrieve the other elf.

“I knew that something was off. My reports have been… very odd. The Lord Seeker has taken the Order somewhere, but to do what I cannot be sure.”

Leliana spoke up, distracting Cassandra from committing murder.

“We will have to look into the matter, regardless. I’m certain that there will be people within the Order that won’t support the Lord Seeker.”

“Ser Delrin Barris is one of them,” I spoke up, hoping that the inevitable danger of Cassandra was over. Probably not.

“I spoke with him in Val Royeaux; he said that he’s going to keep an eye out and see which Templars are willing to help with the Inquisition.”

The doors to the War Council opened, with Solas and Kaiden walking through, Varric following shortly behind.

“What is this about the Lord Seeker not being the Lord Seeker?”

Solas was curious, his head tilting much like a young wolf.

“You feel me, but you do not see. You covet me but do no reach. I feed your anger and I sicken your desire to satisfy with every look. What am I?”

I could have just spoken the word, but I felt the need to be cryptic. Leliana was the only one amongst us, apart from perhaps Varric, who understood my need to say as much as possible to give a simple answer.

Solas thought for a moment and then went very pale, “Envy.”

“Well, _shit_.”

“Envy? That is not good.”

Josephine was speaking the obvious, but she, like the rest of the table, was in shock.

“I understand why you didn’t say anything whilst we were in Val Royeaux, if it had come to blows it would have gotten very bloody.”

Kaiden was pragmatic about the situation. I was glad for it, considering I still felt like shit about not doing anything there and then.

“Envy is a rare demon, but permission is still needed. The Lord Seeker has to be alive for the demon to be able to continue their work. It wouldn’t be a possession, Envy doesn’t need to possess someone. They just need a connection to the person whose life they’re taking over.”

Solas placed his hands in front of him, wringing them together in knots.

“So what you’re saying is that Lord Seeker Lucius is not being possessed, but is giving the demon permission to use their form and is now in charge of a group of magic hunters?”

Callon’s voice gradually increased in volume and before he knew it he was shouting.

Luckily the door was shut and a very strong silencing ward had been placed on it by yours truly when I had arrived in Haven.

* * *

 

“We must go to the Templars!”

“What about the mages? We’ve been invited, and regardless of who is now leading the Order, the majority of the templars have made their opinions quite clear.”

The argument since Envy’s reveal had not stopped between the advisors; Callon, Kaiden and myself sat and watched as the drama unfolded, whilst Solas interjected a comment or two into the advisors arguing every now and then.

Varric had commandeered one of the small tables at the back of the room and several sheets of parchment. I wonder if he was writing the argument down for the book that he was definitely going to write about the Inquisitor in the future.

“I wonder if they realise that arguing isn’t going to get anything done?”

Kaiden scoffed, winding fingers into their braid, “I doubt that very much.”

“I do wonder at times like this, however, did the Elvhenan fall? How on earth did humans manage to conquer that empire?”

Callon queried, staring at the now almost psychically touching advisors.

“Perhaps the infighting amongst the Ancients helped their downfall, humans probably just took advantage of a situation that they had nothing to do with and inserted themselves into the narrative of being conquering heroes.”

* * *

 

Thirty minutes of solid arguing had gotten the advisors absolutely nowhere.

“Herald! What are your thoughts about this?”

 _Finally_! Now we might get somewhere!

“Personally, the mages are the only ones that have actually reached out to the Inquisition and before you argue that a demon is currently in charge of the Templar Order, that wouldn’t have mattered. A demon who actually thought about the world at the moment most likely would have thought thoroughly about allying itself with the Inquisition, even if only to get into a high enough position to manipulate those in charge.”

“Thank you!” I jumped up from my chair, not looking at all like the thirty-two-year old that I currently was and wasn’t that a scary thought, thirteen years since I had seen home.

“Someone is finally making sense!”

Leliana gave me a dirty glare.

“Come on Leli, you lot were arguing in circles. The mages have given us an invite and Ser Barris is seeing who is willing to join us. Not to mention....”

I stopped before I mentioned Cole, I didn't know if the mere mention of his name would bring him to us or not. He was doing other, more important things at the moment and I wasn't going to take that away from him.

She sighed, “Another secret?”

“Yes, and this one needs to be kept. I’m not saying what it is until I need to. They’re doing their own job and they’re _helping_.”

Solas' eyes widened, the only other one in the room who understood the emphasis I put on _helping_.

It was settled.

We were going to Redcliffe, but firstly the Storm Coast, to hire the Chargers, and then to attempt to recruit a certain Warden Blackwall.

* * *

 

**In the Past, Great Thaig of Orzammar, Entrance to the Deep Roads, 9:30 Dragon**

_Oghren had attempted to sober up so that he could join us in the deep roads to search for his estranged wife._

_It didn’t work as well as what we had hoped, the stench of alcohol could still be smelt on his breath but he was now clean and freshly washed. After years of alcoholism, it would be difficult form to fully recover, but he could still swing an axe and carry a shield._

_But the looks of disdain sent his way as we walked towards the entrance of the deep roads was nothing short of appalling._

_Branka really did have a lot to answer for; Hespith was already paying that price._

_The screeching of darkspawn and ghouls filled the air._

_We had arrived._

_The Legion of the Dead were an immovable force against the darkspawn, cleaving through the ranks of those who appeared at the end of the runway._

_“Shall we lend them a hand?”_

_Without waiting for confirmation, Alistair charged for the group with the rest of us following behind._

_The battle was short, with the Head Legionnaire thanking us for the assistance before warning us that the darkspawn activity was increasing hourly and that they knew that it was a Blight but no-one in the Assembly was actually listening to their concerns._

_Everything seemed to hit me at once._

_I couldn’t see._

_I couldn’t hear._

_I couldn’t breathe._

_Everything went dark._

* * *

 

_I couldn’t see anything, my vision going dark. I could feel my hands shaking furiously, the grip I had on whoever had caught me loosened and I could feel my knees hit the cold hard stone._

_It was unfeeling, callous._

_The claustrophobia I had been keeping at bay for the last several hours came crashing down on top of me, making everything far worse than it already was. The darkness was heavy like the stone was collapsing in on top of me, crushing the breath from my lungs and leaving me a bloodied mess beneath the stones._

_“Mal….thorn..thorn!”_

_Someone was calling out to me._

_ That wasn't my name, was it? What was my name? _

_I didn’t recognise their voice, but whoever it was their voice became an anchor, something that I needed to grab onto to haul myself out of the deep well that I found myself in._

_“Breath with me! Come on, just breath with me.”_

_I tried and failed._

_I tried again and failed._

_Once more, and this time I succeeded._

_“Yes, good. That’s it, in and out. In and out.”_

_My vision, which had darkened when the panic attack started, was blurred but at least I was able to see mostly shapes._

_“What is she muttering?”_

_That voice was slightly more familiar, but I wasn’t able to place it, but the question brought to my attention that I was speaking out loud._

What am I doing?

Why am I here?

Seriously?

Thedas?

The Fifth Blight.

Oh, gods.

Oh, gods.

**Oh, gods.**

Dragon Age?

I want to go home.

I want to go home.

I want to go home.

_I want to go home._

**I want to go home.**

Where is home?

I can’t go home.

It’s not there.

No.

I’m not there.

**I’m here.**

I’m not from here.

Please, I want to go home.

Please.

_Please._

**_Please_**.

_“Wait, is she saying she isn’t from here? From Thedas?”_

_“I think she is.”_

_“Does that mean the Blight doesn’t exist everywhere in the world?”_

_“It certainly explains her panic attack.”_

_“She hasn’t seen anything like this before.”_

_“What about the darkspawn that she has already killed?”_

_“She could see the sky then, claustrophobia is a_ bitch _.”_

_“If she isn’t from Thedas, then how did she end up here?”_

_“Look at her ears, a slaver probably picked her up from her home and she managed to escape.”_

_That wasn’t the truth, but I wasn’t able to tell them what the truth was. I didn’t know how I got here either, but assumptions weren’t always a bad thing. My origins had to remain secret. I wasn’t going to die for something stupid like_ not being born here.

_“Come on Thorn, open your eyes. We’re here for you.”_

_I did, Kana was the one speaking to me, which explained why I didn’t recognise her voice. The protagonist in_ Origins _wasn’t voiced after all._

_“Thorn?”_

_My throat was dry, the words leaving my mouth in a croak._

_Kana laughed, slightly on the edge of hysterical. “Yeah, your name is a bit of a mouthful. Thorn is a good nickname.”_

* * *

 

**Present Time, Storm Coast, 9:41 Dragon**

“Your Worship, there is a group called the Blades of Hessarian that has been patrolling the area for a while now. We don’t expect any trouble, but we haven’t been able to speak with their leader to ask for an alliance.”

Scout Harding was as efficient as ever, Callon was happy that she was here. A familiar face in a place that he had never been before. Mallorn had, but she had gone off on her own and couldn’t be seen from where he was standing.

He hoped that she came back soon.

“Will they attack us if we seek them out?”

Callon was curious, most groups attacked first and let questions be asked second.

“They haven’t yet, so it might be wise to hire the Iron Bull and his group of Chargers first and then seek the Blades out.”

That didn’t sound like a bad idea; Kaiden had elected to stay behind and meet him on the road to Redcliffe with Sera who they got along well with. Varric has stopped behind in Haven, but Cassandra, Solas and Vivienne had joined him and Mallorn to the Storm Coast.

Vivienne was only slightly different out in the wild than she was in the capital of Orlais. Refined and dignified, but now with proper footwear and clothing to match the elements.

She never once complained about the weather, but neither did any of his other companions. He was sure that if Sera had joined them she definitely would have.

And Callon hasn’t known her for even two weeks!

* * *

 

The current weather reminded me of _home_ in winter.

The constant, never-ending rain and the general chilliness was a welcome sight. Zevran despaired whenever we visited, complaining constantly about the weather and how the rain ruined his hair.

The beaches of Antiva were also homely, and Zevran was always far happier there than in the rain.

I didn’t blame him.

The small home we had in Antiva City was wonderful, but I would probably never get used to the smell of leather making but it made Zevran happy and that made me happy.

I had left the others behind, moving silently amongst the trees towards the camp of the Blades of Hessarian, my hood up so that whoever was on guard didn’t see my face.

“Whose there?”

“Show yourself!”

The two guards were familiar, twins who had run from home when the Blight had hit their small town in Fereldan, with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. They had found themselves surrounded by darkspawn and subsequently rescued by a group of patrolling cult members.

“Agnes! Chester! I cannot believe Robert put you two on guards duty, what was he thinking?”

“Lady Reaper!”

“Tüile! Robert’s out patrolling, so Berta fixed up the roster and put us on guard.”

Of course, it was Berta who had put them on guard duty, that overprotective woman viewed the twins as her own children.

“Oi! Everyone! Leader is back!”

* * *

 

“So Boss, where are we headed next?”

Callon was never going to get used to all the new forms of address if each one of them was different, but he took it in stride and hopefully it showed in his body language that it wasn’t affecting him.

(It was.)

“We’re good to find the camp of the Blades of Hessarian, attempt to meet with their leader and see if we can ally with them.”

The Iron Bull laughed, “So nothing too difficult then.”

Callon thought that Kaiden was large for a Qunari, but the Iron Bull was even larger. Kaiden was far more willowy than the man stood beside him but maybe as equally scarred, with less definitive muscle mass.

He hoped that his Tal-Vashoth Sarebaas friend forgave him for bringing back a Ben-Hassrath agent to the Inquisition where he lived.

Callon would never let Kaiden go back to a life of slavery if he could help it, even if he had to personally fight The Iron Bull with his own two hands.

“You lot are the Inquisition, right?”

The voice startled the group into reaching for their weapons, as a small figure leapt down from a tree above their heads.

“Who wants to know?”

Callon was defensive, but the grip on his daggers was loose.

“The Blades of Hessarian welcome the Herald and his companions to the Storm Coast.”

This was sounding good, of a bit suspiciously timed.

“Boss...”

The Iron Bull thought so too, but Cassandra was eager.

“Is your leader back at your camp? If possible we would like to speak with them on behalf of the Inquisition.”

The figure snorted, good still drawn.

“Yeah, they just got back. They don’t live with us, you see, too busy travelling or with their husband.”

That seemed odd, that the leader of such a group was not with them full time.

“Who is your leader, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Solas, ever polite regardless of the company.

At this the figure cackled, throwing off their hood to reveal messy but brilliant red-orange hair and long pointed ears pierced within an inch of their life. They wore no vallaslin, but Callon knew that they were not a City Elf. They were too comfortable within the trees, something that was only apparent in those that lived outside of townships and cities. A familiar energy always surrounded them, hidden beneath the branches of the tall trees.

“You’ll soon find out!” He turned and started to walk off, calling behind him to follow him.

“Well, hopefully, we aren’t walking right into a trap.”

“My dears, those could be what the populace call ‘ _famous last words_.’”

* * *

 

The camp was just as I remembered it, the blue tones decorating every fabric in sight and that includes the few saddles that rested atop the stable entry.

“Leader, the Inquisition has been sneaking about. Hubert heard that they want to speak with you, something about being allies? Feynren is going to see if they can find the main group and bring them here.”

I groaned, putting my head into the palm of my hand.

“Did Feyren volunteer or was he sent?”

“He volunteered.”

Of course, he did. _The cheeky little shit._

Zevran and I had found a thirteen-year-old Feynren, bloodied and beaten and barely clinging to life. We had brought him back to the camp, hoping that he would survive. He had, but it took a while for him to warm up to any of us. The humans in the camp had to stay far away from him in the beginning, but the few elves and dwarves in the camp were alright.

He had begged us to take him with us when we left, so we did, before returning to the Blades Camp where he decided to stay until we returned once more.

That was now, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to Feynren to come back with us to Haven when the threat was still very real or wait until the Inquisition headed for Tarasyl’an Te’las.

The sound of a bugle could be heard, which meant that people were approaching the camp.

“It is I, Feynren returning with guests to speak with Leader!”

He definitely got that dramatic flare from Zevran; it couldn’t have been from me.

* * *

 

**In the Past, The Deep Roads, 9:30 Dragon**

_It was eerie in the Deep Roads._

_We had come across several small groups of genlocks and hurlocks as we made our way on our search for Branka and the anvil._

_We were standing together in a tightly knit group, with Shale and Sten at the back, Leliana and Oghren next, Morrigan and myself after them with the two wardens leading on._

_They were the darkspawn radars and would be the first to sense any headed our way._

_The stone around us was barren, almost haunting as the sounds of the forge could be heard echoing throughout the abandoned roads._

_We could hear a scuttling noise but weren’t sure as to where it was coming from._

_“Wait!”_

_Alistair flung out an arm in front of Kana to stop her from walking any further, causing the rest of us to stop in our movement as well._

_Ahead of us in the bloody room, the mounds of flesh looked as if they were breathing as we moved closer to them, we could see a small figure, hunched over and covered in boils and bruises muttering to themselves. As we got closer we were able to more clearly hear the words being spoken, repeated over and over again._

“ _First day, they come and catch everyone._ _Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat._ _Third day, the men are all gnawed on again._ _Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate._ _Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn._ _Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams._ _Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew._ _Eighth day, we hated as she is violated._ _Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin._ _Now she does feast, as she's become the beast._ _Now you lay and wait, for their screams will haunt you in your dreams.”_

_“Hespith! Is that you?”_

_Oghren’s deep voice was soft, quiet as he called out to the woman._

_She looked up, a deer in headlights if I had ever seen one, catching sight of us._

_“An elf? No, no… to deep down here for an elf… Exotic and impossible.”_

_Hespith spoke, spotting Kana, and ignoring Oghren. She must not have heard him._

_“Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers’ faces and open doors.”_

_“What has happened to you?”_

_Oghren was even quieter this time, even with elvhen hearing it was difficult to hear him._

_She started to repeat the poem before Alistair stopped her._

_“What is that you’re chanting?”_

_It seemed as if she wasn’t going to answer, but she did._

_“It’s what I’ve seen, what I will become. I force it into verse so it is fantasy, unreal. That’s the only place I can hide because they make me… they make me eat. And then…” She shuddered, as did I. I didn’t want to imagine what she had gone through, it made me want to vomit._

_“All I could do was wish Laryn went first. I wished it upon her so that I would be spared. But I had to watch. I had to see the change. How do you endure that? How did Branka endure?”_

_“What is this change?”_

_Kana asked her and she replied._

_“What they are allowed to do. What they think they must. And Branka… Her lover and I could not turn her. Forgive her… but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become.”_

_“Hespith! What has Branka done?”_

_Oghren asked again, but she did not answer._

_“Why isn’t she answering?”_

_“Perhaps it’s the Blight?”_

_I pointed out, with Morrigan agreeing with me._

_“She is only answering the two Grey Wardens.”_

_Alistair repeated the question, and this time she answered._

_“I will not speak of her! Of what she did, of what we have become! I will not turn! I will not become what I have seen! Not Laryn! Not Branka!”_

_She started to mutter under her breath, “She became obsessed…Nothing left, Blessed stone. The Anvil…it was all…”_

_She ran off, as if in a daze. Oghren went to give chase, but Leliana held onto his shoulder stopping him._

_“It’s too late for her now, far too late.”_

* * *

 

**Present Time, Blades of Hessarian Campsite, 9:41 Dragon**

“Welcome!”

Solas was not expecting to see Mallorn sitting, lounging really, on the leader's chair. Though it did explain the Blades of Hessarian patrols and their lack of hostility towards the Inquisition.

“Mallorn! You’re the leader?”

She grinned, the scars on her face pulling.

“Yes, took over about five? Six years ago?”

The elf who had led them there, Feynren spoke up.

“From what some of the others have told me, the previous leader was a bastard who was more or less a slaver who killed his own men when he didn’t get his way.”

“It’s true, Tüile here is brilliant.”

One of the guards piped up.

“Honestly you lot, you’re making me blush.”

“Boss? Who is this?”

Callon had forgotten that Bull hadn’t met Mallorn yet.

Feynren grinned, “Please allow me to introduce…”

But he was interrupted by Mallorn standing up from her chair, “Honestly Feyn, the others know who I am. You must be the Iron Bull, I’m Mallorn Tüile. A pleasure to meet you.”

The Iron Bull did something that the others didn’t expect, his mouth opened wide in shock before he started to laugh, offering a hand for her to shake.

“The new Arishok speaks highly of you, ma’am.”

Mallorn accepted the hand and shook it firmly. “That’s a compliment coming from him.”

“Also Callon, the Blades of Hessarian are willing to ally with the Inquisition.”

He gave her a droll stare, “That is what we were hoping for.”

“No bloodshed this way, no fighting either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Blades of Hessarian are slightly different in this story; rather than being a hard line cult dedicated towards Andraste and only having humans in the cult, I'm not sure how comfortable I feel about calling it that tbh, the change in leadership when Mallorn and Zevran took it over changed some of the core practises the group had. I'll most definitely be exploring this in a flashback, for sure.
> 
>  _“You feel me, but you do not see. You covet me but do no reach. I feed your anger and I sicken your desire to satisfy with every look. What am I?”_ I went on an internet search to look for riddles that had the answer of envy, and this was the one that I liked the look of. 
> 
> Also, the broodmother poem is direct from the Dragon Age wiki.


	8. It's A Boy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another not-secret is found out, history is given a new home and a small reunion is had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you enjoy this chapter!

**Present Time, Main Inquisition Campsite, 9:41 Dragon**

We had been getting ready to leave before Feynren had come into the camp, carrying a large satchel on his back, face red from exhaustion. He had obviously rushed here in a hurry, possibly to catch up with us.

I knew that there was only one thing that he wanted, and that was to come with me.

" _Naneth_ you promised the next time I saw you or _papae_ that I would be able to come with you!"

Feyren's hair was entwined with his fingers in his nervousness, worried that I wouldn't hold true to that promise. I only wished that Zevran had arrived here before I had

" _Wini_ I want you to come with me, I truly do, but this is going to go badly before it gets any better."

I walked over to him, mindful of the eyes on us both and pulled him into a hug. I couldn't help but remember that he was only sixteen years old. Sixteen and he had already seen his world crumble several times over; first with the Blight and then when he had been left for dead, he had heard word from neither Zevran or I after the explosion in Kirkwall for months and had been distraught when we had found our way back to him.

And now with the breach in the sky.

I didn't want his life to crumble more than what it had already.

"If you promise me, _wini_ , you promise me that if something _bad_ happens, if it gets too hard, you run and run and run; you don't stop running. You leave your _naneth_ and _papae_ behind, find your aunts and uncles. You hear me?"

He nodded, head not even making it halfway up my chest he was so small. Zevran and I reckoned that he would be shorter than his adopted father even when he was fully grown.

"Yes, _naneth._ I'll run and I won't stop. _"_

* * *

_"_ Leliana never mentioned that you have a child."

Cassandra was almost naively confused.

"That's because _naneth_ isn't actually my birth mother, nor is _papae_ my birth father."

There hadn't been an extra horse, but it seemed to Solas that Feynren was comfortable sitting in front of Mallorn on her own mount. The woman didn't seem to mind either, used to sharing a mount with her son it seemed.

"Leli knows about Feynren, she has met him before. As has most of those that we once travelled with. He was a bit younger then."

"How old are you, _da'len_ , if you don't mind me asking?"

Solas was curious. All elves were young in his eyes, none really matched his age, but elves even now were notoriously hard to pinpoint age-wise.

"I'm sixteen, almost seventeen."

He seemed very proud of this fact, but Mallorn shut her eyes almost in pain.

"It's why I'm so wary about bringing him with me, he's young."

" _Naneth!_ I'm old enough to kill!"

Solas admitted to himself that was very true.

"And I wish that you had never had to do so." She sighed, her presence seeming older than what she probably was.

"Killing, it takes a bit out of you each and every time you do it. And every single time it gets harder and harder to piece the bits of the puzzle back together. If you haven't a group of people around you that you can trust with your life, it's even worse."

There was a pensive look on the young elf's face as he thought about what his mother had said.

"It's true kid, your ma has the right idea."

Solas wasn't expecting the Qunari to speak up.

"Killing is easy, it's living with your actions afterwards that's hard."

Callon's voice was quiet as if he had learnt that lesson that hard way.

The group moved in silence, the horse's hooves being the only sound besides the rain hitting the ground and the wind whistling through the trees.

* * *

**In the Past, The Deep Roads, 9:30 Dragon**

_The Anvil was something of incredible beauty._

_If the situation that we were in wasn't so heated or dire, I would have loved to have been able to speak with Caridin about his work or even where the inspiration for the golems came from._

_As someone who had been there before the cult of the Maker and Andraste became widespread, the knowledge that they had to have had and the lost tales that they knew; it was something incredible._

_Most forgot that it wasn't only the elves who had lost the majority of their history and heritage; the dwarves had lost just as much, if not maybe more when the Thaigs first started to fall against the darkspawn hordes during the First Blight._

_There were golems spread throughout the room, guarding the Anvil with the largest standing directly in front of it. They seemed more to have more ornamental designs carved into their stone body, like armour._

_"My name is Caridin. Once, longer ago than I care to think, I was a Paragon to the dwarves of Orzammar. If you seek the Anvil, then you must care about my story, or be doomed to relive it."_

_Oghren let out a swear that echoed in the space._

_"I'm sorry, but are you telling us and trying to make us believe that you are the Caridin who built the Cross and disappeared during Ancient times?"_

_Morrigan sounded disbelieving at the notion that this being would claim such age and notoriety._

_(I had a momentary flash of who currently shared her mother's body and shuddered. The goddess of vengeance was many things and subtle was, unfortunately, one of them.)_

_"Though I made many things in my time, I rose to fame and earned my statues based on a single item. The Anvil of the Void. It allowed me to forge a man of steel or stone, flexible and clever as any flesh soldier. As an army they were invincible."_

_He looked downwards, as if in shame. "But I told no one of the cost. No mere smith however skilled has the power to create life. To make my golems live, I had to take their lives from elsewhere."_

_"The volunteers…"_

_My voice was a whisper, but the silence under the stone made it seem even louder than it was._

_"Yes, salroka, those that volunteered to come with me into the forge, their lives…"_

_Alistair piped up, "That sounds an awful lot like blood magic."_

_"Perhaps the magic involved was blood magic, but the darkspawn were pressing in. Originally I only took volunteers, the bravest of souls willing to trade their very lives for the chance to defend their homeland."_

_Caridin sounded both defensive of the actions that he had to take and defeated because of them. It was a conundrum that he wished on no one._

_"But the king at the time, King Valtor grew greedy. He forced men, criminals and the casteless, his own political enemies… They all ended up falling to the Anvil. It took feeling the hammer's blow myself to realise the height of my crimes."_

_"It became a punishment instead of an honour."_

_Sten spoke up, looking towards Shale out of the corner of his eye. He was evidently wondering if they had been forced or volunteered._

_"Yes… I entombed myself here just so that I could find a way to destroy the Anvil!"_

_He was definitely passionate about this, the stone itself seemed to answer as the room around us shook._

_The sound of footsteps caused us to turn, as a woman that could only be Branka stormed in. She looked as though she hadn't slept, bathed or eaten for weeks. Her face was bruised, the bags under her eyes becoming more prominent as she came closer to the group._

_"No!" Even her voice indicated her exhaustion. "The Anvil is mine! No one will take it from me!"_

_"I do believe that the dwarf who made it, that would be Caridin by the way, is the only one who has the right to decide what happens with the Anvil."_

_My smart-arse reply was not appreciated as the dwarf cast me a filthy look, "Shut your filthy mouth, elf!"_

_Caridin turned to the golem within our party, trying to appeal to Shale's senses._

_"Shale, you fought to destroy the Anvil once. Please do not allow it to fall into unthinking hands once more."_

_"You speak of things I do not remember. You say that we fought… did you use our control rod to command us to do so?"_

_Caridin's reply was gentle, "I destroyed the rods! Perhaps my apprentices eventually replicated them, learnt to do so. I do not know. But if so, then all they need is the Anvil to make all the slaves they need."_

_He turned to the rest of us, pleading._

_"Please, all of you! Help me to destroy the Anvil! I cannot let it enslave more than what it already has! But no golem can touch it."_

_Kana glared towards Branka, her comment about filthy elves had hit a note, before turning towards Alistair. The look in her eyes became fond, almost cheerful. His own face showed no emotion, but his eyes told another story._

_He nodded._

_"You were, are a Paragon. We will support you, but will need your help in return with something."_

_Branka was furious, "Do not listen! He has been trapped here for over a thousand years, stewing in his own madness. Help me claim the Anvil and you will have an army like you have never seen!"_

_Oghren couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his estranged wife's mouth._

_"Branka you mad bleeding nug-tail! Does this thing mean so much to you that you can't even see what you've lost to get it?"_

_"Look around Oghren, is this what our empire should look like? A crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn spume? The Anvil will let us take back our glory!_

_"The lives though. It enslaves living souls! It cannot be used again!"_

_Morrigan looked at Kana, a questioning glint in her eyes._

_"Have you no desire to discover this anvil's potential? It is surely a marvel, a tool of creation. You could rival the Maker himself with this instrument!"_

_Branka stared at Morrigan, hope in her eyes that she had finally found an ally amongst us._

_"Morrigan, it is this very hubris that drove the Maker from us in the first place."_

_"Morrigan, Leliana. Now is not the time."_

_The two went silent, sullenly glaring at the other at my words._

_Kana and Alistair bumped their fists against their chest, a gesture, a promise. The rest of us followed, my own action more clumsy than the others._

_"We will help you to destroy the Anvil."_

_"Thank you, stranger. Your compassion shames me."_

_Branka was silent, before a burst of evil cackling laughter could be heard, echoing off of the stone eerily._

_"You are not the only master smith here Caridin! Golems! Obey me! Attack!"_

_So they did._

* * *

_The fight was over._

_There was a thrum in the air that I hadn't noticed before, almost as if something beneath us was singing. I could only half remember a theory I had read online about the Titans and how they may have influenced Caridin to create golems in the first place._

_There was a strong resemblance to the Sha-Brytol warriors, at least in their armour. The veins of pure lyrium seemed pleased, as though whatever plans the slumbering Titan had was working._

_"I thank you, we thank you. What is this deed that you needed of me?"_

_Kana set forward the deal that the Wardens had made with the Assembly, a crown to be built by a Paragon to crown a king and in return, the Grey Wardens would have their allies for stopping the Blight._

_"That should be simple enough to do, was there anything else?"_

_I sheepishly rubbed the back of my head, "Do you know much of the history of either the dwarves or the elves? What little knowledge is left is pitifully small."_

_Kana nodded her head enthusiastically._

_"The Dales were lost to us centuries ago; the First Blight cost the elves their freedom from the humans as they believed us to betray our oath."_

_Caridin thought about it for a moment, before nodding._

_"I believe that I will be able to transfer some of my own memories and histories that I have been told into a small obelisk or stone tablet."_

_Kana grinned at me, and I tried to grin back. Was it right for me, a person who wasn't actually an elf but had been inhabiting the body of one (and it was my own body, we had checked), to ask for the histories of a group of marginalised peoples?_

_Could I technically be considered a part of their culture, or was it appropriation? I was never going to be certain and all I could do was think positively about the fact that this May recover some lost histories and knowledge for the People and being some joy (or sorrow) into their lives._

_Caridin set to work, with us watching him and taking turns to keep watch. There were a few golems who had broken free of the control rod and were despondently staring into the furnace below or conversing softly with each other._

_Some were wondering if it would be wise to just throw themselves into the depths, whilst a few thought that to restore whatever honour they had left, they were going to continue to help the Legion of the Dead for the rest of their lives._

* * *

**Present Time, Redcliffe Village, 9:41 Dragon**

Our arrival at Redcliffe was met with suspicion from the townsfolk and the refugee mages alike.

Feynren and I had lifted our hoods up, in an attempt to conceal our identities from those that were curious enough to look hard enough.

"It doesn't seem as if we were expected, by anyone."

Kaiden and Bull were drawing a lot of the attention, Qunari (Tal-Vashoth or not) were not often spotted in Redcliffe. The last they had seen had probably been Sten during the last Blight.

"My lord Herald." One of Leliana's scouts knelt in front of Callon, who looked exceedingly uncomfortable. "We have spread word that the Inquisition was coming, but you should all know that no one here was expecting us."

"Something iffy is going on here."

Bull agreed with Kaiden, nodding his head.

Callon was confused, "No one? Not even Grand Enchanter Fiona?"

The scout stood, a sheepish look on his face. "Eh, sorry about the bowing. Sister Nightingale said no bowing, it made you uncomfortable. But if the Grand Enchanter has been expecting us, she hasn't told anyone."

"Well damn, that's not good."

Feynren spoke quietly, edging closer towards me. I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, drawing him closer. The time magic in the air was making the pair of us severely uncomfortable, the energy feeling a bit like raw lyrium and not even the good stuff.

It felt corrupt.

How no one else was able to feel it, I couldn't be sure. Solas did look uncomfortable though, so maybe he was feeling it, too.

"We have arranged use of the tavern for the negotiations."

An almost raggedly dressed elf walked up behind the scout, huffing in exertion.

"Agents of the Inquisition, my apologies! Magister Alexius is in charge now but hasn't yet arrived. He's expected shortly. You can speak with the former Grand Enchanter in the meantime."

"Ugh, _Vints_."

* * *

The statue dedicated to Kana stood large in the centre of the town, the griffin was all angles and sharp edges with a garden surrounding it that had been lovingly attended to over the years since the statue had been instated.

The plaque in front of the statue told of her history and the battles she had fought, leading up to and after defeating the Arch Demon. There was a slight mention to us, her companions, but thankfully it was very brief.

"This is for _ma'asa'ma'lin_? What about _ba'isa'ma'lin_?"

Feyren asked, walking up towards the statue and placing a hand reverently against the stone.

"Al has an entire kingdom, Feyn. He has no need for a stature."

He nodded and bounded over towards Callon, who was staring up at the statue with awe in his eyes.

"Callon! You'll probably end up getting one of these!"

The look of pure horror on Callon's face made my cheeky son light up with glee.

"Creators I hope not!"

Feynren was laughing so hard he started to cry, the abject horror that Callon was projecting making him almost hysterical.

"Stop teasing him, Feynren."

Callon sent me a grateful look as Feynren stopped his teasing, but that quickly fell when I continued.

"Wait until we're in the War Council. Then you can tease him."

"Thorn!"

"Thank you, _naneth!_ "

* * *

**In the Past, The Deep Roads, 9:30 Dragon**

_After Caridin fell to his death into the fiery pits of lava below and the Anvil had been destroyed, a few of the golems decided to come back with our group whilst the rest decided to either follow Caridin back to the stone or delve further into the Deep Roads to try and claim back what had been lost for hundreds of years._

_On our way back to Orzammar, we ran into a group of legionnaires pushing back a large group of darkspawn, two emissaries amongst the group._

_Magic was generally fought best with magic._

_I flung myself forward, lightning on the tips of my fingers. Gripping my scythe the magic worked its way through the metal and out the other end, the metal of the blade conducting the electricity, pushing it further and further before it hit its target._

_The emissary burst into flames, screaming as it died._

_This brought the attention of the small hoard upon us, but they enacted too late. The other golems, Goigrin and Hiroryn followed behind me, slamming several hurlocks into the ground and turning them into bloody smears on the ground. Shale and Garkel, the final golem who joined us charged in next, making short work of the remaining darkspawn._

_The surfing emissary thought itself to be very clever, moving out of the way of the rampaging golems and hiding behind a column._

_Morrigan with eagle eyes spotted it, promptly flinging out a palm-full of fire at the darkspawn._

_It too burst into flames with a scream._

_"Stone-met! Thank you for the assist!"_

_Of the two remaining legionnaires, it was the male dwarf who spoke up. They had a cheerful-looking disposition about them. His blond hair was streaked with flecks of silver, his deep blue eyes full of pain._

_He looked very familiar._

_"Keon!"_

_The female dwarf was less cheerful to see us. Red hair shaved close to her scalp, a brand on her cheek and a scowl that seemed permanently etched upon her face._

_She also looked familiar, too familiar._

Hot damn.

Aadya Brosca and Keon Aeducan.

_"You are Grey Wardens, no?"_

_Kana was bemused, the exiled Prince's lack of fear confused her._

_"Only two of us are Grey Wardens, but we are travelling as a group."_

_Keon nodded, "I assume my younger brother has sent you on some fool errand so that the treaties will be upheld?"_

_Alistair narrowed his eyes, now suspicious. "Younger brother? How do you know about the treaties?"_

_Aadya Brosca scoffed, "Keon here voluntarily went into exile when he was accused of murdering his brother. The Crown Prince, Trian. He's an Aeducan, which is another reason why he knows about the treaties."_

_'"I've always greatly respected the Grey Wardens, and when I was exiled I had hoped to seek out the Order to request to join."_

_Aadya rolled her eyes, "And now I'm going to come with you, you foolish lunatic. That's if you two will accept two exiles, a brand and a former prince, into your Order?"_

_Alistair didn't even think about it before blurting out a strangled 'yes!'_

_"What Al said. Anyone who wishes to undertake the joining is welcome, but at this present moment we haven't got the time to perform it."_

_"We've got time, let us come with you to the surface."_

* * *

**Present Time, Redcliffe Tavern, 9:41 Dragon**

"Well, that was a bust."

Kaiden slumped onto the ground outside the tavern, with Callon following shortly behind.

"She doesn't remember inviting us, does she?"

Mallorn always had an uncanny knack for knowing more than what she let on, but in moments like this, it got annoying.

"And you couldn't have said anything? Was it another demon?"

Callon looked close to tearing his hair out, Kaiden observed.

"No, it was Fiona. You must have noticed how things here seem _off_. Time isn't linear, and it certainly isn't flowing correctly here either. There's interference, not caused by the breach but could only come about due to the Fade being torn open."

Feynren was looking bored, as though his mother spouting theories like that were normal.

"I did receive a note from the son, to meet him in the Chantry."

Mallorn hummed, "You should definitely go. But take some weapons, not for the note writer but the rift inside."

Callon groaned, burying his head between his knees. "Why can't we go a single day without coming across a single rift?"

"Because Thedas' luck doesn't work like that?"

Feynren's cheek was a welcome break, Kaiden found.

" _Da'len,_ perhaps we should go and meet with this person? Before the Magister catches wind?"

Solas squatted down to meet Callon's eyes, holding out a hand. Callon looked at it for a moment before taking it.

"Sibling dearest, are you joining us?"

Kaiden shook their head, "If's it's another Vint it's probably best I sit this one out, at least for now."

Callon looked worried, and Kaiden understood why. The two of them had been basically inseparable for the last few years and now with everything that was happening, neither wanted to be torn from the others' side.

" _Esa'ma'lin annala'an. Enir hima ena'vun."_

_Sibling eternal. We become sunrise._

It was something that Callon had told him, drunk out of his mind a few months after they had first met. It generally didn't make any sense, especially not when spoken in Trade Common, but the words were a comfort to the pair of them.

" _Ash kost."_

_To seek peace._

These were the parting words of Kaiden's superior officer when they left to become Tal-Vashoth. They had no doubt that the officer had been re-educated or killed thereafter for not stopping Kaiden's desertion, but those words had stuck and never left.

The two phrases between Kaiden and Callon had become a sort of code if one of them was feeling lost or alone the words would tell them that they weren't. They had a bond that could not, would not be severed.

* * *

Feynren was incredibly bored.

He had never seen _naneth_ like this before, so serious and with a pain in her eyes that she couldn't hide. She had headed into the tavern with the others after the rest left with Callon to follow the note.

She saw how bored he was sitting with the adults and as such had given him a note to find someone, and a warning to behave himself.

He always behaved himself! He wasn't sure why his mother was so worried. He may have pulled a few pranks here and there, made a few nobles blue and purple but no one was harmed.

Okay, maybe she had a point.

"Are you Connor?"

The mage he had been directed to approach jumped, scared out of his wits.

"Ah, yes that's me."

Feynren grinned up at him, "Good. _Naneth_ wanted me to give this to you."

The boy, man really with his fluffy brown hair and pretty hazel doe eyes, Feynren couldn't help but be intrigued and very attracted. He was very cute, but there was something distinctly unsettling about his magic, as though it had been twisted once and never shaped back. Feynren was no mage, but he was sensitive to magic in a way that he hadn't been able to explain.

What was it about this mage that had his mother so concerned?

Connor took the letter gently from him, " _Naneth?_ And who is your _naneth_ exactly?"

"Oh, her name is Mallorn…"

Connor interrupted, "Tüile. _Yes_. I remember her, she was very kind to me back then."

Feynren wanted to badly ask what had happened but knew that it wasn't a good idea. He watched as Connor read the letter, before nodding.

"Is she still here?"

He nodded, "She's up at the tavern, did you want to come and meet with her?"

"That would be best."

We were going to take the Tranquil and any mage who wanted to leave back with us to Haven, I did not care what Vivienne said. These people had no choice, most had been dragged along with little regard to their own personal feelings on the matter of the Circles.

Feynren, with his never-ending energy bounded into the tavern dragging Connor Guerrin along with him.

It had been ten years since I had seen the boy last, he had only been nine years old at the time and no nine year old should be blamed for what happened.

What nine year old boy, who loved their father so very much, would let their father die if they were given the opportunity to save him? I know that I would have done the exact same thing he had if I had ever been in that situation at that age.

"My lady, it is good to see you again despite the circumstances."

I stood up and pulled him into a quick hug. His arms wrapped around me tightly, before letting go.

"You too, my lord."

"I'm not a lord, not anymore."

"That doesn't matter to me, and it wouldn't matter to your cousin either."

"He visited whenever he could, you know. Always wrote letters making sure I was doing well."

"I had hoped that he would."

There was a moment of silence before Connor spoke again.

"Is it true what you have written?"

"If you truly desire, then yes."

"I want to! I'll ask around, get everyone that I can. We will come back with you!"

Connor broke out into a wide unpractised smile before thanking me again and running out of the tavern.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see a strange grin on Feynren's face, blush quickly following. He turned to me and smiled, canines bared as though he were a wolf hunting his pray, before racing out after Connor.

 _Oh_ _dear, oh dear,_ he really was my son.

That was exactly how I had reacted when I saw Zevran smile for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something that annoys me about Dragon Age is that they have such an incredible opportunity to expand and explore both the Ancient Elves and the Ancient Dwarves yet only one is explored and furthered throughout the game (or at least more than the other.) The two groups, elves and dwarves, have lost more than any other yet the writers seem to be far more interested in history and heritage of the elves more than the dwarves. Don't get me wrong, I am super glad that they're exploring even that since they seem to be super set on HUMAN! but the lack of Dwarven history or even language available throughout the games is a little annoying since I would love to know more than just what the wiki tells me (because that isn't much) and meta can only get you so far.
> 
>  
> 
> **References & Translations**
> 
>  
> 
>  _Salroka_ friend in Dwarven (DA)
> 
>  _Naneth_ mother in Sindarin (Tolkien)
> 
>  _Papae_ father in Elvhen (DA)
> 
>  _wini_ child not yet full grown in primitive elvish (so early when Tolkien was writing)
> 
>  _ma'asa'ma'lin_ aunt in Elvhen (DA)
> 
>  _ba'isa'ma'lin_ uncle in Elvhen (DA)
> 
>  _Sha-Brytol_ or Revered Defenders, are the dwarven warriors found far beneath the Deep roads in the Descent DLC
> 
>  _da'len_ child in Elvhen (DA)
> 
>  _esa'ma'lin_ sibling in Elvhen (DA)
> 
>  _annala'an_ many, many years in Elvhen (DA)
> 
>  _Enir hima ena'vun_ "We (to) become sunrise" in Elvhen (DA)
> 
>  _ash kost_ "to seek peace" in Qunlat (DA)


	9. Oh Dear! What Can the Matter Be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to the first meeting between a flirty assassin and a clueless scythe-wielding mage and knowledge is spilt to the horror of all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope that you enjoy this chapter! I have exams at the end of the week, and I really wanted to upload this.

**In the Past, The Assembly Halls, Orzammar, 9:30 Dragon**

_The two dwarves in exile had covered themselves up, so that as we entered the Assembly the chances of them being recognised was very little. The golems, however, were very recognisable and obvious._

_There had been a few dwarves who had offered to buy them from us, but we shot them all down as soon as they had asked the question. The golems May have been made of stone, but they were still living, debatably breathing, but definitely thinking beings._

_Not objects to be used or admired._

_The crowning of Behlen was quick, simple in comparison to the measures we had taken to make it actually happen._

_“Alistair, I thought that Grey Wardens weren’t supposed to interfere with government or monarchy?”_

_He gave off a nervous laugh rubbing at the back of his head, “Yes that is meant to be the case, but ahh. Circumstances?”_

_“Very convincing.”_

_King Behlen took the group aside and into the chambers off by the side of the Assembly hall, with both Aadya Brosca and Keon Aeducan following behind us. The golems, including Shale, had stayed outside with Sten to act as guards._

_“I would like to once more thank you for your actions, Orzammar will honour the treaties and offer our aid when the time comes.”_

_Kana and Alistair bowed; the two of them were the only Grey Wardens here and even those the rest of us were there to help stop the Blight none of us was the authority on the subject._

_‘’We appreciate your support, your majesty. And once more, we express our condolences for the loss of your father.”_

_He nodded before turning towards the two cloaked dwarves, “Keon I know that it’s you under there.”_

_Keon removed his hood, a small grin on his face. “I know that you knew.”_

_Behlen sighed, used to his elder brothers behaviour, “And can I assume that under the other hood is Aadya Brosca? Because if so, your sister has been incredibly worried, she would be glad to hear from you.”_

_Aadya all but threw her hood off, a look of panic and longing crossed her face before a scowl made its way back._

_“Rica? You’ve heard from Rica? Is she okay? There’s nothing wrong is there?”_

_Behlen let out a dry chuckle, “No there’s nothing wrong; both of us were worried about the pair of you.”_

_Aadya glared at the King, “Even after everything that you put Keon through? With what happened to Trian?”_

_Keon put a hand on Aadya’s shoulder, stopping her from moving as she looked as though she was about to launch herself at the newly crowned King._

_“Aadya, enough. What’s done is done; I don’t like what happened, nor do I like how it happened but it’s done. Trian and Father are returned to the Stone, and I am still alive. I will count my blessings where I can.”_

_“That is...surprising brother. I thought you would be far angrier.”_

_Keon stared at his younger brother, suddenly looking much older._

_“Little brother, out of the three of us it was not Trian or I who had the head for politics. I would have become good at it, Trian could have pretended but the decisions to be made would have been best done by you.”_

_I didn’t feel it necessary for us to be there, “Excuse me, but would you like for us to leave so that you’re able to hash this out?”_

_This made the brothers jolt, having forgotten that there were others in the room with them._

_“No need, I believe that we have already said enough.”_

_“Not enough.” Aadya’s face was sour, but it changed completely as a side door opened and in walked another dwarf._

_“Sister!”_

* * *

 

**Present Time, Somewhere in the Hinterlands, 9:41 Dragon**

Getting the tranquil and a majority of the mages out of Redcliffe was not an easy task, but with Felix Alexius distracting his father and the majority of the Venatori, smuggling them out was far easier than it would have been.

(That and it was just Feynren, Kaiden and myself taking them out whilst the others left the way we came in.)

Connor’s knowledge of the town was helpful, with quite a few underground passages that even during the Blight hadn’t been used, were being used now.

“How are these paths not known?”

Feynren was bouncing around, but careful to not knock over any of the little ones who were amongst the tranquil staring around with wide and terrified eyes. The youngest amongst them could not be any older than seven years.

“Most of them had been caved in, but a few weeks before... well father sought to open them up but he fell _ill_ shortly after and there were few people who knew that they existed. Mother certainly didn’t.”

Connors's eyes had glazed over, recalling the past that haunted him.

“Regardless of how these came to be, we are thankful for them now.”

“What will the Inquisition have the Tranquil do?”

The monotone voice of Clemence washed over me. It was his fault, never his fault but the voices of the supposed Tranquil made me feel as if I was being dunked into a large bucket of water, struggling to breathe. Their voices were everything that mages could become if those with power over them took that power too far, which they often did.

“I believe the Inquisition will let whatever the Tranquil want to do _do_. If you would like to help research if you would like to learn how to garden, how to fight, smith. Anything. You are not within the circle any longer, and you are certainly not property.”

Clemence nodded, almost robotically. “We no longer have wishes or dreams of our own, but it would be nice to be of use.”

_Be of use._

That made my blood boil, but I couldn’t do anything at the moment. It would have to wait, we would have to wait.

Kaiden was carrying a small elf, whilst several other magelings had climbed up on their shoulders, gripping onto the caps of his horns. Most of them had never seen a Qunari and were fascinated by the ribbons and jewels that adorned their hair.

Most of the children had taken to asking him questions, rapidly and one after the other. The few adult mages, those that were most definitely not apprentices seemed relieved.

“I was in Kirkwall, and I saw the Qunari invasion first hand. It is nice to see that they are not all as frightening as those I saw then.”

That certainly explained the distance that a few of the group, both mages and tranquil, had taken from Kaiden.

Kirkwall was a clusterfuck and good people were still paying for _decades_ , for _centuries_ of abuses that built up to what eventually happened.

“There’s not far to go now.”

* * *

 

**Present Time, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

Our two groups met back halfway to Haven, thankfully without much bloodshed for both groups. Callon had gone to pick up Thom Rainier at the request of Leliana. He had been using the name Blackwall still, and I had told Leliana that but she apparently hadn’t seen fit to tell anyone else.

There had been a small group of bandits that had thought us to be easy prey as we made our way to Haven.

Feynren, Kaiden and I took care of them swiftly, with the older mages in the group shielding the younger ones and the tranquil. Feynren fought with more flourish to his normal style, attempting to show off for Connor but it didn’t seem to work considering the life or death situation that we were in.

Once we had settled the children, the mages and tranquil went about finding ways to be of assistance with most setting up nearest the healer's cabin. They had seen enough of the fighting for the time being, and there were plenty of people injured or sick travelling to Haven.

Callon had joined the advisors in the Chantry, but not before dragging Kaiden and myself back with him.

This could go very badly if the wording spoken wasn’t correct.

“We don’t have the manpower to take the castle! Either we find another way in, or give up this nonsense entirely and go to the templars!”

“Honestly Cullen, did you not see the very large group of mages and tranquil we brought back with us? Or did you choose not to notice?”

The man blushed, embarrassed, I continued on. “We would be able to, theoretically, go to both groups. If we send a small group to Redcliffe and some scouts through the tunnels then we may be able to negotiate for the rest of the mages freedoms. And we could also send a group to Therinfal Redoubt to do the same for the few templars that may be willing to join us.”

Leliana placed a hand on my shoulder, “There’s far more to this than what you’re saying. _Please_ , Thorn.”

The group looked at me, wondering and curious but I was terrified. The Red Future terrified me more than I cared to admit, but I did not wish for anyone who was to go to Redcliffe to not know what they were in for.

“Firstly, the others. They will all need to hear this.”

Leliana stood as still as the cliff faces of the Storm Coast.

“Oh dear, this isn’t going to be good is it?”

I shook my head.

“No, and it may be worse if I don’t say anything.”

* * *

 

“ ** _What_**? **_Blighted lyrium?_** ”

Varric’s voice was weak, as were his knees as they both gave out on him and he collapsed to the ground. Solas went forward to catch him but wasn’t able to get there in time. Cassandra had taken to pacing the room up and down; I couldn’t watch her, the continuous pacing was making me feel ill.

Solas looked distraught; nothing was going to plan for him and to hear that the future if we didn’t stop it from coming to pass, was worse than what he had woken up to already?

He was devastated.

“Everything seems to come back to the Blight.”

Leliana had to sit down, her voice quiet.

Most of the others in the room had sat down also, the information that I had told them being too great to bear.

I hadn’t wanted Connor nor Feynren to hear about the Red Future or what was happening to the Templars but I also really didn’t want them to be unprepared for anything that may happen in the future.

Connor had gone as white as a ghost when I had mentioned the mages being possessed in the future, but almost sighed with relief when I had said that he had held out. Feynren was looking at him with worry, not knowing if it would be welcomed to give the other comfort or support.

Vivienne also looked as shocked, but as someone who had played The Game for as long and as well as she had, her poker face was incredible. The Iron Bull was similar, the only indication of his discomfort was the twitching of his hand as it went to reach for an axe that was not on his back.

“The Red Lyrium is really what the issue is.”

Blackwall had really been dumped into the icy deeps of the ocean, joining us when he had.He hadn’t experienced going out into the field with any of us properly and then immediately joining in the Inner Circle was a huge gift in his previous existence as a Grey Warden recruit that never actually completed his Joining.

Thom Rainier was searching for a way to redeem himself and by the look in his eyes, he believed that this was going to be his shot.

“I’ve sent word to Orzammar; they don’t seem to know much about the lyric apart from the fact that the red lyrium has only been found in one of the thaigs that first fell to the darkspawn.”

Varric sighed, “The one that Bartrand found.”

“Yes. His Majesty King Behlen has people working on finding a way to take the Blight out of the lyrium, but it’s been slow going.”

Others in the room were more caught on the time magic involved, Solas specifically.

“Time magic?”

There was an underlying _something_ in his voice, even in his eyes as he spoke. Hope? Nervousness?

It would take much more than the slight connection to the Fade there was at that moment to take Solas back to Arlathan.

“Yes, time magic.”

This was a new voice, one that I hadn’t heard in quite some time.

“Sorry _messeres_ to interrupt, but this man said that he would be able to help.”

A guard had apparently tried to stop the mage from storming into the room, clearly out of breath whilst Dorian stood in the doorway casually leaning against the door frame as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Callon give the Tevinter man a once over, appreciating the man's beauty even amongst the chaos of the room.

“Who are you?”

Cullen snapped, but I don’t think anyone blamed him. Everyone was jumpy after my revelation, but Dorian was lucky that no-one had pulled a weapon on him.

I jumped to my feet, ready to introduce him.

“May I introduce Lord Dorian Pavus. And before you ask, he is an Altus and definitely not a Magister."

He grinned at me, startled.

“Yes, that. Magister Alexius was once my mentor, any information I have would be of great use to you I hope. Unless the good Lady here has already told you?”

“I only have an overview but no specifics.”

“Ah, _specificity_. I can do that.”

Dorian went on to explain the concept in more depth but then went on to say that it had only been theory and he was unsure as to how Alexius had managed to get it to actually work.

I raised my hand, not unlike I would have done in primary or high school back on Earth.

“The Breach would be that reason. The amount of pure energy that is currently being released into the world is astonishing and would be exactly what he would have needed to turn that theory into a reality.”

“The Fade holds untapped power and with only the Veil holding that power back…”

Solas muttered, the tips of his ears flushing pink when he realised that everyone in the room had heard him. He most likely was speaking from experience.

“If the theoretical work was completely solid, then the Breach into the Raw Fade would have given the magic to rip time apart.”

Vivienne sounded a combination of disgusted and impressed, turning to the Tevinter mage.“It must have taken you and Alexius years to come up with the concept.”

Dorian turned his head as if he was embarrassed. “Only a few, but since the magic never actually worked I never saw a reason to further the studies. Now there is no choice but to further them.”

Feynren gripped my arm, face paling.

“ _Naneth, enfenim’an._ ”

I turned to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him gently against my side. Connor followed the action with his eyes, pain clearly visible in them. I gestured with my free hand for him to come and join, he hesitated before doing so.

“ _Gilith,_ we will make it through this. We will all make it through this.”

The question was, the future that I had once seen come to pass was now in limbo purely based on me being here. I could not and would not regret my decisions, but the nagging feeling of missing something or doing something wrong was always going to be there.

“So, what is the plan? How do we go about this?”

Callon spoke, face pale and holding onto Kaiden’s hand so tightly that you could almost see the others bones. His voice was quiet, but there wasn’t any of the expected tension there. He was looking around the room, hoping that one of us had a plan.

“I’ll go to Therinfal, I’ve got an idea for that.”

Callon nodded, “If it all goes to shit, then that’s probably a good thing. I’ll go to Redcliffe, but we’ll have to come up with something before then.”

The silence in the room was palpable, choking.

“Firstly, there has been a _request_ for the Herald of Andraste to seek out the Hand of Korth in the Fallow Mire.”

Josephine spoke up for the first time that afternoon, her quill and parchment hanging limply from her grip. She had given up attempting to write what I had told them after it became too much.

Callon sighed, folding in on himself and still not letting go of Kaiden’s hand.

“We will need all the help that we can get if this is to work out.”

I couldn’t have agreed more.

* * *

 

**In the Past, The Imperial Highway, Camp, 9:30 Dragon**

_After the two sisters had been reunited, and an agreement to take them into the Grey Wardens after the treaties had been gathered and fulfilled we had found ourselves quickly back at our campsite._

_Bodhan was very happy to see us, the enchantments and wards that Morrigan, myself and Sandal had put up would only hold so long and it was lucky that we had only been gone as long as we had._

_“I’m so very glad to see you all! There haven’t been any darkspawn around but there have been a few bandits and looters looking for easy prey. Those wards you two put up have kept us out of any trouble and my boy's enchantments have also been helping out.”_

_“We’re glad that you’re both safe, next time however I believe that some of us will stay behind? Or at least we will move camp, that would probably be safest.”_

_He agreed, but we set up the camp anyway. No use moving it in that very moment._

_With all our tents set up, and the pot of stew simmering away on the fire I came to a decision. I was going to tell the others that I could see bits of the future, or at least of a potential future._

_Maybe something about Rivaini seers? That seemed unlikely, considering I was white and not a person of colour, as the people of Rivain were. Maybe I touched an artefact of some sort which brought me to Thedas? That was definitely closer to the truth, not the full truth but still enough that I felt comfortable saying it out loud and for others to attempt to question._

_It was, after all, what I had told the Hawke family aside from Carver. I hadn’t been able to tell that to Carver since he had been the one to find me, unconscious and alone on the Outskirts of Lothering._

* * *

 

_“Let me get this straight, you’re not from the continent of Thedas? But from somewhere else?”_

_Alistair had a look of disbelief on his face, as did most of the others. Morrigan and Sten were the only two who didn’t, they looked for contemplative than anything else._

_“No, and I’m not sure how I got here either. Whatever that artefact was it both brought me here and gave me the ability to see_ choices _and_ outcomes. _”_

_Kana seemed stuck on those two points, “What do you mean by choices and outcomes?”_

_There was only one way I could think to explain this, an analogy that I hoped that they would understand._

_“Okay so choices and outcomes; think of it like this, a choose your own adventure book. I’m not sure if you have them, but there is always a beginning and the person reading the book can choose which direction the book goes in after the initial introduction. Some choices make for a bad outcome, whereas others make for a good outcome.”_

_They were nodding along, “the thing is, I have seen several different beginnings for this. Aeducan, Brosca, Amell, Mahariel, Surana, Tabris and Cousland. Each a different person, a different beginning with the same choices to make.”_

_In my mind, I continued the names that had been seared into my mind after hours of varying playthroughs. Hawke, Adaar, Lavellan, Cadash, Trevelyan._

_Warden. Champion. Inquisitor._

_“The only name there I know, besides Kana’s and the two dwarves is Cousland.”_

_“I thought that would be the case, but it all depended on a single linchpin.”_

_Leliana asked, curious. “What was this linchpin?”_

_“Warden-Commander Duncan, depending on where he went the beginning of this would change.”_

_Alistair let out a dry sob, “Of course he was.”_

_I went on to explain a few more things, before saying that an ambush was coming shortly but I couldn’t specify exactly when only that Howe had hired assassins on Loghain’s behalf and sent them after the remaining Grey Wardens._

* * *

 

_I had warned the others that this was going to happen, with my so-called abilities. We had all taken precautions._

_The ambush had been expected, but what I hadn’t been expecting was how_ **gods** **damned** **pretty** _Zevran Arainai was._

_His blond hair seemed to shine in the faint light of dawn, his eyes were sharp full of dark humour that I could see from where I was standing. The tattoo was stark against his amber skin. The armour he was wearing left little to the imagination, as his toned legs were on show for all to see._

_How could someone be so pretty? And be_ that _skilled with a blade?_

_It just wasn’t fair._

_(I’d also just found out something about myself, but I wouldn’t realise until much later on.)_

_“The Grey Wardens die here!”_

_Several things happened at once. More assassins appeared, and spell began to fly. I had somehow found myself facing the man himself, an incredibly well trained and armed professional assassin who had killed a great many people before and would continue to do so into the future._

_“Mi querido_ , _it is a shame that I am going to have to kill such a beautiful woman.”_

_I would have been flustered if he had said that I was beautiful in any other situation, but he was trying to kill us._

_“Pretty boy, you are going_ down. _”_

_The fight between us was dirty, as we both lunged at the other at that moment. A dagger met the metal of my scythe creating sparks at the tension between the two._

_I had managed to disarm him and with a cry I flung myself at him, barrelling him over and yanking hard on his hair._

_He let out a shocked hiss, not expecting that. He managed to grip onto my wrist and he pulled on it hard, flipping us over in the process. The two of us rolled for a bit down the small hill, the sound of spells flying and swords clashing behind us._

_When we had come to a stop we both stood before I kicked out, foot making contact with his chest. He grabbed my foot and swung my leg back towards me, a fist flying at my face. Dodging I swung my own fist at him, missing by only a fraction._

_I had forgotten that I was able to use magic until that very moment, so that is what I did. I dived at him, which surprised him and managed to get him onto his back. I could feel a dagger, one that he had kept secret against my ribs but I had lit up my finger with lightning. If he put that dagger any closer to me, then I was going to have to knock him out and I told him as such._

_“If that dagger gets any closer, little birdie, then this finger will give you a nasty shock. Might even knock you out for a bit, may even accidentally kill you.”_

_He grinned up at me, pressing closer._

_“It has been a long while since I took a tumble like that, so please bellisima_ , _I would love to see what you do next.”_

_He purred the words and I panicked, shocking him into unconsciousness without realising it. The dagger fell from his hand as his body went limp._

_I was now laying atop an unconscious assassin, one who happened to be incredibly attractive and one that I was in a very compromising position with._

_I could feel the steam practically coming out of my ears._

* * *

 

_“The other assassins are dead, why isn’t this one?”_

_I glanced at Morrigan almost guiltily, still sitting on top of the other elf. I hadn’t moved, almost frozen with a myriad of emotions._

_One of which was an embarrassment._

_“You got suckered in by his pretty face, didn’t you?”_

_Kana had a large grin on her face, eyebrows raised suggestively._

_I covered my face embarrassed, the blush spread across my cheeks and onto my ears._

_“He flirted with me and I panicked!”_

_Alistair looked at me with sympathy while Kana and Morrigan both laughed, Morrigan adding._

_‘“And that is why you are still sitting on top of him.”_

_I attempted to scramble off of him, but I was held in place but two firm hands that I hadn’t realised had gripped me._

_“Mm... what?”_

_The others were now on alert, but I was still partially trapped._

_“Excuse me, but would you please let go of me?”_

_I didn’t think asking politely would actually work, but it did. Zevran let go of me and I was able to get off of him, scrambling behind Alistair to hide away my shame._

_“I rather thought that I would wake up dead, or not wake up at all, as the case may be. But I see that you haven’t killed me yet.”_

_Kana rolled her eyes, “Don’t ask me why you’re not dead, I wasn’t the one fighting you.”_

_Zevran turned his eyes towards me, “I suppose you kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? I’ll save you some time and get straight to the point then.”_

_It wasn’t why I had kept him alive, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud._

_“My name is Zevran. Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, which the good lady seemed to already know, brought him for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have now failed at, sadly.”_

_Alistair shook his head, his body still hiding me. “Not sadly for us, I for one am quite happy to be not dead.”_

_“Yes, I suppose you would be happy about that. For me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn’t it? Being captured by a target seems to be quite detrimental for a person's budding assassin career.”_

_I snorted, my humour as bad as it ever was in scenarios such as this._

_Kana was convinced by the end of the conversation, but the others weren’t._

_“What? We’re taking the assassin with us now?”_

_“Alistair, anyone who is willing to help at this time is needed.”_

_“Yes and apparently we need a swift kick to the head, but you don’t see me asking for one.”_

_“That is a fine suggestion.”_

_Kana turned to me, “What do you think?”_

_I answered her, turning to face Zevran._

_“I think that anyone who is willing to offer us information as Zevran just did, regardless of whether he tried to kill us or not, is worth taking with us. And besides, the more help the better.”_

* * *

 

**Present Time, Fallow Mire, Inquisition Camp, 9:41 Dragon**

The remaining Avvar were to follow the Skywatcher back to Haven, both as penance for what they had done under the Hand of Korth and out of curiosity for the lowlands and the Inquisition.

Kaiden had given them a valiant speech, about the Lady of the Skies and her suffering and how the Inquisition seemed to be the only group in Thedas willing to do something about her wound.

Mallorn and Sera who had also come along were confused until Callon later informed them that Kaiden had spent some time with a small group of Avvar hunters after he had left the Valo-Kos Mercenary Company and had learnt of their customs.

Callon was still in shock after Mallorn’s revelations.

Red lyrium and time travel were two things that he had thought were never going to have to deal with in his quiet life as a Dalish outcast, but life never worked out the way that anybody really intended.

He didn’t want anyone to go through the year that Mallorn had seen and if Dorian wasn’t able to disrupt the time magic before the Magister used it on them then those left behind would suffer.

How did Mallorn handle knowing when something may or may not happen and the consequences? He could understand why she didn’t say much, but to know what she did?

The toll it must have taken on her so far would be unbelievably awful.

(He would have no idea how correct he was until he had been flung into the future.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keon Aeducan and Aadya Brosca were two of the wardens that I played in two of my many Origins playthroughs.  
>  _enfenim’an_ is an attempt at saying “I’m scared” or “I am fearful” in Elvhen (DA)  
>  _naneth_ is mother in Sindarin (Tolkein)  
>  _gilith_ is starlight in Sindarin (Tolkien)  
>  _mi querido_ is my dear in Spanish (which I’m using as Antivan in the world, much like French is Orlesian and Welsh is going to be Free Marches or more specifically Starkhaven)  
>  _bellisima_ is beautiful in Spanish


	10. Of Just Choices...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spirit friends are the best of friends, especially when Envy gets involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it could all go terribly wrong, or at least the future is even shittier than it was in the game. What remained of the Inquisition was very, very desperate and desperate people do shit that they wouldn’t do otherwise. 
> 
> I really hope that you enjoy this chapter!

**Present Time, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

I was to leave for Therinfal Redoubt before Callon left for Redcliffe, if we managed to get to our destinations at roughly the same time than recruiting both mages and Templar’s should, hopefully, work out.

Everyone in the know was worried about how both groups were going to go and if everything went horribly wrong to prepare quickly and swiftly however, hence my need to gather allies.

I had sent word to everyone that I knew, to the King of Fereldan and to the Arcane Advisor to Empress Celene to watch everyone that they came into contact with very carefully and to be prepared to defend themselves at a moments notice. I had previously sent word to Amaranthine, while knowing that Kana and her group of Grey Wardens wasn’t there, I wasn’t looking to contact them.

They were already doing something else and had already been warned about what was coming.

I needed to contact another Ancient Magister, one who had already disagreed with the decisions of the Conductor of the Choir of Silence even if he ended up giving in towards the end. The Architect of the Works of Beauty had been trying to find a cure for the Blight himself after his disastrous first attempt which had caused the Fifth Blight. He may be the only one that could, theoretically match Corypheus for a time.

The Architect had despaired over the other magisters survival from what I had heard, vowing to help end the other once and for all. It had, after all been the Conductor’s idea to storm into the Golden City.

Hafren and her group had been contacted by Zevran personally or at least that is what I had understood from our last correspondence. He had been chasing down a lead, one whom had been known as an Agent of Fen’Harel and someone who was meant to be dead.

Felassan wasn’t dead, or least that is what our informants had suggested. Maybe a spirit had saved him from certain death, or he had been awoken before being ceremoniously lobotomised as he dreamt.

_‘Mi amore,_

_Please be careful. The spies are numerous and crafty but one or two seem to have turned, disliking ideas of what is planned, or least that is what their behaviour has suggested._

_Give my love to our son, and tell him that I will be with you both shortly.’_

Letters between the two of us that hadn’t been sent through the tablet that Sandal had enchanted were always short and without much description, both of us too wary of anything falling into the wrong hands.

Before I was about to leave, and before I had given mine and Zevran’s love to Feynren Leliana pulled me aside.

“Your reputation will certainly help with _encouraging_ the Envy demon to _ally_ with the Inquisition, but you have to be careful.”

“Don’t worry about me Leliana, I will have more help than what you realise.”

 _Valour, Creativity, Benevolence, Discipline._ Cole.

 _“_ Your spirit friends?”

I nodded, no need to voice the answer.

“How people don’t realise that you’re a mage, I honestly have no idea.”

I was sure either, it was as if my magic hid around those it knew wouldn’t approve. I would still be able to cast, but those people would just dismiss it out of sight.

“Don’t ask me either, I use magic in front of pretty much everyone and only a few even seem to really notice; it’s not like my magic isn’t flashy, either.”

She gave me a hug, squeezing slightly too tightly, afraid that if she let me go then something bad would happen. She wasn’t wrong.

“Be safe.”

“I will, and please take care of Zev and my boy if anything happens, they’ll know what to do.”

She placed a hand over her heart, a solemn vow. “If anything happens, they will be protected.”

“I trust you Leli, keep yourself safe too.”

* * *

Feynren was hiding near the stables, close to the wild hart that had taken to following me around and that I had subsequently named Prongs.

“Why do you have to go? Why can’t I come with you?”

He was laying atop the mount, playing with a chord of leather that had been previously wrapped around his wrist. It was something from the Clan that he had been born into, the one that he had lost to the Darkspawn during the Blight.

“I may not be the only person who would be able to handle this demon, but I have more experience than anyone here with demons except for perhaps a few Templars, Connor and Solas.”

“Connor?”

Feyn’s wide eyes were curious, his head upside looking at me.

I shook my head, “It’s not my story to tell Feyn, maybe when he feels more comfortable he may tell you or he may not.”

“I won’t pry.”

“I know that you won’t.” I sighed, running a hand through my blonde hair.

I never wanted children of my own, the thought of physically giving birth made me feel ill. But caring for a child that had not been borne of my own body, adopting in a sense was just as fulfilling.

But I worried that I would fail as a parent.

It must have shown on my face as Feyn slipped off of the hart’s back and pulled me into a hug.

“ _Naneth_ I want to come with you, but I get it.” He screwed his face up, grimacing and acting like any teenager would if their parent had told them that they weren’t allowed to do something that they wanted to and knew that there were very good reasons for it.

“Sort of at least, you and _papae_ are trying to protect me. Uncle Carver was only eighteen when the Fifth Blight hit, nineteen when he lost everything and you always said that it changed him.”

I buried my face in his vibrant red-orange curls, “And Carver has repeatedly told you that he would never want you to grow up as fast as he had to. You always listen more to your uncle than you do me that’s for sure.”

He said nothing to dispute that comment except to hold onto me tighter.

“You come back to me safe. _Papae_ and I need you.”

* * *

Therinfal Redoubt stood in front of us, looming tall and covered with the Templar banner.

“Lady Tüile, Veteran of the Fifth Blight. The Reaper. Lord Esmeral Abernache, honoured to participate. It is not unlike the second dispersal of the reclaimed Dales.”

I bet that he took one look at my ears and thought, yes I know exactly what I am going to say to this woman who is representing an organisation. I refrained from rolling my eyes, but it was almost painful holding back the urge.

Lord Abernache has spotted Vivienne out of the corner of his eye, walking over towards us.

“Ah, Lady Vivienne! We met at last Summer’s ball; the Duke Introduced us.”

She turned to me, looking as though she wished to roll her eyes but had more tact not to in front of this man, or indeed ever.

“Indeed, I could not have possibly forgotten the occasion.”

She, alongside Cassandra, Kaiden, Blackwall and Sera started to follow the nobles into the fort. I waited for the lord to continue his speech.

“The Lord Seeker is willing to hear our petition about closing the breach, a credit to our alliance with the Inquisition. Care to mark the moment? Ten Orlesian houses walk with you.”

I nodded my head, acknowledging his words. “The Inquisition certainly does value this alliance Lord Abernache. It is nice to see that whilst the Templars have lost their sense of reason if that had it to begin with, that at least some of the nobles of Orlais have more equipped mental facilities.”

The guard standing alongside Lord Abernache gasped but the Lord himself gave no reaction other than a small smirk as if he, too enjoyed the comment.

“If the Lord Seeker believes us to ignore that ghastly hole in the sky, he truly does have something wrong with him.”

I snickered, the mask of stoicism breaking momentarily. “I believe Lord Abernache that my son would agree with you.”

The two of us, with his ever-present and silent guard, walked towards the entrance of the fort.

“I believed that the Herald of Andraste would be joining us, not that I do not appreciate your company or your representation.”

“My friend has a slight matter to attend to, there is a bit of unstable magic that he needed to take care of otherwise he would have been here with us.”

Unstable magic usually made a person blanch and the Lord Abernache was no exception, the skin of his face that I could see went a pasty white.

“Does it have anything to do with the Breach?”

“I can’t say if it does or does not, but rest assured it will be taken care of.”

“There may be a slight problem, however with the Lord Seeker. He is refusing to meet with us nobility until he has met with the representative of the Inquisition and he was most surely expecting the Herald, Lord Callon Lavellan.”

Of course, the Envy demon was, but they were going to be sorely disappointed.

“I believe that he will have to make do with meeting me, and my _unfortunate_ reputation.”

“I suppose so.”

The rest of the trek was made in silence, the rocks beneath our feet slippery with the slow drizzle of rain. I couldn’t help but miss umbrellas, even if I could never get one to work properly for me. At least they were there in theory, even if they were almost never in practice.

“Ah! Here we are! Therinfal Redoubt!”

I was able to hear Cassandra scoff from up ahead of us, “The Lord Seeker abandoned the White Spire to come here?”

“It appears they’ve sent someone to greet you. Present well. Everyone is a little tense for my liking.”

Lord Esmeral Abernache gave a small bow, before walking off towards the rest of the nobles.

“How are we going to handle this?”

Kaiden looked as though they wished to tug on their braids.

“Well the Lord Seeker is not going to be expecting me, but they will certainly wish to take advantage of the position that I have.”

“Advisor to the Inquisitor, that will definitely gain their attention.”

It wouldn’t work well for Envy in the long run, but at least in the beginning. If Envy were to take over an advisors position, the advice that the demon would be able to give would push an advantage and when everything inevitably went wrong all decisions would be heaped upon the head of the Herald or future Inquisitor. The blame would go to them, and they would take the fall.

The walk towards the gates was made with haste, conversations between nobles and templars with nobles attempting to convince the templars to do the right thing. The fact that the nobles, people who would rather burn an alienage than admit to actually loving an elf, were trying and failing to convince mage abusers to do the right thing was almost comical.

Lord Abernache was being introduced to Delrin, but as soon as the announcer said that the templar was a second son the Lord turned his nose up. To his credit, Delrin ignored both the announcer and the nobleman and walked straight towards me hand outstretched.

I reached my own out, and the two of us gripped the forearm of the other. A sign of respect to the other.

“My lady, it is good to see you again.”

“And you as well, Ser Barris.”

“I didn’t wish to say this, but unfortunately you were correct. The Lord Seeker is… not himself. The officers are acting strangely as well, with only a few of us left of my rank and a majority of the soldiers as well. “

The Lord Abernache who was listening in spoke up as quietly as he could, “My lady, ser are you saying that something is not _right_ with the Order?”

“My apologies for ignoring you so blatantly, my lord, but yes. On behalf of both myself and Lady Tüile I have attempted to investigate, but the templars that have begun to ingest a strange new form of lyrium are _changing_ and it is certainly not for the better.”

“This lyrium, it wouldn’t happen to be red?”

Of course, it was red, but I couldn’t say that I knew or my hand would be seen far too soon.

“Yes, it is.”

“Red lyrium is _evil_ , for lack of a better word. Around the site where the Conclave unfortunately met its fate, there is not only the beginning of the Breach but a large mine of red lyrium. It is blighted.”

The reaction of both the noble and the templar was of pure horror.

“Oh dear, that is not good.”

Understatement Lord Abernache, but at least now I had the man listening to me.

“I don’t believe completing the ritual of raising the flags will be necessary, considering the circumstances but I do believe Lord Abernache that it would be wise if you and the other nobles were to perhaps _hide_ when we go to meet the Lord Seeker.”

Face pale, but in agreement. “I think that may be the best option and the guards that we brought with us?”

“Best be on _their_ guards. Have them ready their weapons, but tell them not to be too obvious about it.”

Ser Barris groaned. “This is going to end badly isn’t it?”

“Not if we can turn it towards our favour.”

* * *

Knight-Captain Denam was just as smug as a man who thought he knew everything could be. The feeling coming off of him in waves.

“We were expecting the Herald of Andraste, but no matter. You or _him_ , this is the reason why all of our plans must be moved forward.”

“Knight-Captain I do believe that the representative of the Inquisition, namely myself, were supposed to meet with the Lord Seeker.”

I put a single hand on my scythe, as if i was nervous and it was a twitch of anxiety. But it was a signal, in a moment the room would break into all out chaos.

“I do believe you are looking a touch _red_?”

Without warning the room was full of corrupted Templars, the red lyric was already beginning to show beneath their skin. The glow was eerie, and I could hear a low humming. It was beginning to grate, like nails on a chalkboard, scratching and clawing.

The nobles in the room ducked for cover, hiding behind tables, chairs and wardrobes in corners of the room. Their guards flung themselves in front of each noble, defending whenever a Red Templar got too close. Magic was not going to be of too much use in this battle, considering even a single smite would drain my mana and though the scythe wasn’t for show it wouldn’t help.

Subtle magics and scythe seemed to be my only options, even as Vivienne covered herself and Kaiden with a barrier reinforced with a sigil ward beneath their feet.

It was nice to see the two working together.

Blackwall and I had been able to use the other to our own advantage. His shield had been very useful for me to jump off of and take out a few approaching warriors, whilst I guarded Blackwall’s back when he charged another few red templars.

The uncorrupt templars were doing the best that they could, protecting those that needed protecting and cutting down their former brothers and sisters in arms. Some of them had tears spilling down their cheeks as they did so.

Sera was using the tables and roof rungs to her advantage, sniping from above as Cassandra engaged directly with the Knight-Captain Denam. She managed to get him to a standstill, before swinging her sword wide and knocking the man clean out.

The fighting took us all the way up to meet with Envy posing as the Lord Seeker. The others urged me to go on ahead and I took a deep breath in. They followed shortly after, a slight distance away.

This could be very painful to live through, that is if I lived. But I couldn’t think like that, too many people were dependant on my success here.

Besides, Envy wouldn’t be able to see what he may have done as I had never personally sided with the Templars in any of my playthroughs, I had only ever read the wikipedia page and my knowledge of the events that may have transpired were spotty at best considering how long it had been.

I was lucky that any of my knowledge was still applicable from _home_ , but I had learnt a lot from living in Thedas regardless.

Envy wouldn’t be getting anything out of me that way, that was guaranteed.

“You are not the Herald of Andraste, but no matter. I will still be able to become _better acquainted_ with an advisor to the Inquisition.”

The Envy demons voice echoed off of the stone, bloodied and mangled bodies had been haphazardly thrown about the landing.

“Regardless, come and show me what kind of woman you really are.”

Envy was standing directly in front of the doors, facing away from us as we made our way up the stairs. The others hung back slightly as I pressed forward.

It happened so very quickly, the demon grabbed me by my lapels and pulled me forward and in through the door.

I found myself inside my mind, limbs frozen from the attempted possession.

_Here we go._

* * *

Everything was green.

It was the first thing that I noticed, the almost luminescent green fog that interrupted my senses as I walked forward.The green of the Breach and possibly the magic of Fen’Harel.

I couldn’t help but thank whichever deity that was listening to my prayers over the years for allowing me to keep the scythe attached to my back. But this was my mind, and only I was able to control it.

Envy wouldn’t stand a chance.

There were human, elvhen, dwarven and qunari bodies on fire, as I walked towards where the demon lay. A pyre had been built, burning the corpses of darkspawn and civilian alike and the smell almost made me want to wretch but any weakness that I showed to the demon would be something that it had over me and I would not allow that.

“ _Limbe! We are here as you asked._ ”

Valour was there, the armour they wore was that of a Hoplite. They seemed to enjoy the freedom that it brought them.

“ _Envy is going_ down!”

For such a serious being and emotion, Discipline was almost child-like in their enthusiasm.

 _“Hide from Envy’s sight, wait for the right time to strike_.”

I couldn’t speak out loud, but the spirits were able to hear my thoughts regardless.

“ _Of course!”_

_“At your order, my friend."_

The final two voices were of Creativity and Benevolence, the spirits presence slipping away as quickly as they had first arrived.

The shades of Carver and Zevran appeared, a layered voice speaking. Envy as Leliana stepped out from behind them.

“Is the shape useful? Will it let me know you? Everything tells me about you. So will this. **_Watch._** ”

Envy once more changed shape, rippling out of and back into view like moonlight on a lake in winter.

“Am I meant to applaud?”

I needed to sound as bored as possible, as though being taken over by Envy was something that happened to me everyday.

The envy demon walked behind Carver, pressing a dagger at his throat and sliding it across. Black foamy blood spilt from the gaping wound and it took almost everything in me not to react. The fake fell, limp to the ground. There was no thump of armour, so I could be reassured that it wasn’t real.

“ **No**! _You should scream in terror!_ ”

I could see out of the corner of my eye Creativity, they were creating a doorway identical to the one that Envy had stood in front of all the while making faces at the demon, poking their tongue out and disappearing agin. This would be my way out.

Envy backed away into the shadows, returning as Zevran moments later laughing. It sounded so wrong, everything about this entire situation was _wrong_.

“Being you will be so much more interesting than being the Lord Seeker.”

The demon vanished, before popping up behind me, “Do you know what the Inquisition can become? With an advisor like you? You will see, when I’m done the Elder One will kill you all and ascend, then I _will be you._ ”

I scoffed, trying desperately to keep my cool.

“Truly, no one can be another being. And the Elder One? Who is that?”

I could feel Benevolence behind me, invisible to Envy, keeping a hand on my shoulder to hold me in place so that I wouldn’t launch myself at the demon.

_“Calm my friend, you can do this.”_

They disappeared as the demon started to laugh again, with Envy’s voice taking over Zevran’s.

“ **The Elder One?** He is between _things_ , mortal once but no longer.” The demon appeared once again at my shoulder, walking around to face me directly.

Zevran’s eyes were never that cold, not even when he was trying to kill us all. Not even when I told him my greatest secret.

“Glory is coming, and the Elder One wants you to serve him like everyone else by _dying in the right way_.”

“ _Please_ , keep talking.”

Envy backed up into the shadows again, replaced by Carver behind me.

“I am **not** your toy! _I am Envy_ and I will know you.”

I desperately wanted to say that the demon was certainly someones toy.

“Tell me _Reaper,_ this is your mind. Tell me what you _think_.”

The fake Carver suddenly drew a dagger, stabbing a shade of my own body right in front of me. The fake me collapsed to the ground, eyes glowing green.

 _Well_ , that was one thing that the demon got right. My eyes did glow, but not green. _Purple_. And only when I had been using magic non stop. It had only happened thrice before, and each time the situation was dire.

The demon continued, “Tell me what you _feel.”_

Carver disappeared, and Envy returned behind me wearing clothes that I had not worn in over fifteen years in a body that I almost didn’t recognise as my own.

The ears were still elvhen, but there were no scars from the life I now led. The clothes were what I had been wearing when I had went camping the last time with my friends.

_On Earth._

The fake me stumbled, blood spilling from them and I looked down to find a dagger in my hand.

“ ** _Tell me what you see._** ”

Envy disappeared entirely then, the path clearing and a door opening. Envy clearly expected me to follow it; it needed me to for the demon to attempt to learn how to become me.

_“It’s gone for the moment, shall I send for Cole?”_

Valour had been a constant in my life since I arrived in Thedas and I would never be able to thank them enough for everything.

 _Yes, send for Cole. Let me_ play _for a moment, you can all blend in. Envy is not going to expect that my mind is my own and I control it far better than a demon_ ever will _._

* * *

Envy was having an incredibly difficult time.

The woman that they were attempting to learn, to become was incredibly frustrating and was not doing anything that the demon needed it to do.

Whenever Envy put a pathway in front of the elf, a place with no foreseeable way out she would slip through a corridor that Envy hadn’t known was there. Whenever Envy enticed her to view how they would act as an advisor, the other advisors would speak up and against the demon and the Herald would inevitably follow along with his other advisors information.

Walls had hidden doors, windows could be jumped out of, trees could be climbed and the little actors, wisps the demon had intimidated, were _not cooperating_.

If the demon had hair, they would have been tearing it out strand by strand at this point.

“Envy, how are you feeling?”

The damn elf was taunting him!

“They are frustrated, confused. _Why is nothing going to plan?_ ”

That was a voice the demon did know, at least partially. A particularly annoying and persistent spirit of Compassion who had been helping templars escape the Elder Ones grasp and now it was interfering in Envy’s business!

“Get out! You aren’t welcome here!”

The elf piped up, almost cheerful. “And you aren’t either, Envy.”

Envy wanted to scream as the elf and that damned Spirit of Compassion disappeared from their sight again, escaping through another door and out into the forest.

What had happened to the Chantry Envy had planned? Surely the Chantry would have interested this woman?

The demon had forgotten that elves were not exactly welcome in the Chantry.

It was old, and the last time it had met a mortal was during the time when the Book of Shartan was still a part of the Chant of Light. It had served the Nightmare longer than even that, once it had been Prosper in the time of Arlathan but that time had long since been forgotten.

(They had long since lost with their people.)

* * *

The forest was entirely too easy to get through with the help of the spirits, it resembled thatof the Wombat State Forest and a place that Envy had absolutely no idea of how to navigate.

I had been there enough to know which direction would lead me out onto the road at least. But I had to let the demon find me, right back at the beginning where the door was.

“ _Unfair_! _Unfair_! That **thing** kept you whole!”

“Cole wasn’t the only one, I have more friends than Compassion you know.”

The friends I had mentioned shimmying into view, further angering Envy who lunges towards my throat.

Envy had tried to lift me up, but Valour and Benevolence kept it held back, the demons form was shifting and changing every few seconds. It was confused, and we needed to keep it that way.

“Shall we knock it out?”

 _“Allow me._ ”

Creativity was never normally one for violence, but sometimes needs a must. The spirit took a hammer from their back, styled similarly to something I had seen in a comic all those years ago and slammed it down onto the demons head.

A large flash of white and I was in the waking world once more, standing and staring at the door and Envy in its true form laying on the ground in front of me. A hideous being with too many eyes, and limbs that bent at odd angles. Skin as pale as a corpse, as it cried out and attempted to escape.

I flung both my hands out in front of me, sparks at my fingertips.

“You are not getting away that easily, Envy.”

_“Are you sure about that, Reaper? Your little friends cannot help you now.”_

The demon was right about that, but that wasn’t about to stop me. Lightning flowed from my left hand, as in my right I held a rune stone, an enchainment created by Sandal.

An enchantment that had been used to contain an Ogre and several Profanes in place, frozen for eternity.

I threw it and it made contact just as the lightning did. The lightning shocked the demon into submission, whilst the enchantment froze it.

There was no escaping for Envy now.

* * *

The remaining Templars, few in number as they were, surrendered to the mercy of the Inquisition and stated that they would only feel comfortable if they were to be under the command of Ser Barris for the time being.

Since he was one of the only ones that I could trust in that position I agreed, as did Delrin.

“I noticed that your casting ability is lacking in a proper technique; both yourself and Ser Adaar have a similar manner of throwing spells at objects.”

I had wondered who would be the first to bring up my magic use, but I certainly wasn’t expecting Vivienne. Solas perhaps, or even Kaiden.

“I was never in a circle, so I do not know those forms Madame de Fer, however the way in which I cast suites me just fine. I have learnt from many a mage outside of those under the circle.”

“Hmm, well if you would like some tips you are always welcome to ask.” She looked over to Kaiden, nodding at them as well. “You are welcome to join as well, Messere Adaar.”

She then walked off, in search of Cassandra and the Templars who had started to pack up their belongings, ready to leave for Haven. 

Kaiden shook their head, sighing. “She’s going to be like that with all of us apparent apostates, isn’t she?”

“I’m afraid so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is coming so fast, so work is wanting everyone pretty much every day at the moment. It's quite overwhelming, especially since retail at this time of year is hectic (to say the least).
> 
> I headcanon (or have a theory at least) Envy to be a very old spirit, hence why its so powerful and as one who has been around since the time of Arlathan but a spirit that had evolved from a wisp and transformed into a demon throughout the chaos. 
> 
> It came to serve the Nightmare after the Magister’s breached the Fade and the Golden City turned Black; it was around the time of Andraste that Envy came into contact with very devout Andrastian humans, as well as the elves who followed Shartan. This was the last time it had ever really seen a mortal, too busy trying to further whatever agenda the Nightmare had before acquiescing to Corypheus. (One thing; why on earth would an elf, dwarf or vashoth care about the Chantry? I’ll never understand that part if you’re playing as anyone other than a human.)


	11. ... and Whispered Outcomes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future was both the same and worse than what had been described, but changing it was the priority.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't really expected to get this chapter out as quickly as I did, but here it is! I really hope that you enjoy it!

**The Future that May Have Been, Redcliffe, 9:42 Dragon**

Red.

So much _red_.

The lyrium was protruding from all the surfaces visible to both Dorian and Callon, as they landed in what looked to be a dungeon.

“Blood of the Elder One!”

Two Venatori had spotted them almost immediately, running at the pair clumsily with daggers in hand. Dorian and Callon moves in synch, killing both assailants with very little effort.

“She was right.”

Dorian looked at him strangely, “Who was right?”

“Mallorn. We’re in the future, aren’t we?”

Dorian looked around, a pensive look on his face. “I do believe that you would be right, that she would be right. How did she know?”

Callon had forgotten the Dorian hadn’t been there for the beginning of the War Council, but had come into the room later.

“I’m not sure, I don’t think anyone does. She just sees a specific path, a future that she’s been trying to make better.”

“Like the legendary Eleni Zinovia?”

Callon had no idea who that was and told Dorian as such, but before Dorian could further explain an unfamiliar voice called out to them.

“You know, I visited her once. Spoke in too many riddles, wonder what she’s doing now?”

It was a male voice, rough.

“Whose there?”

Callon prepared his blade, ready to be attacked again when a figure stepped out from behind the open cell door. It was a tall man, with slightly pointed ears and deep scars running across his face as though they had been given to him right then. Red lyrium looked as if it had tried to take hold in the wounds, but something within hadn’t let it.

The man raised his hands in a peace offering, “I’m not here to harm, I’m here to help.”

Dorian, who had taken a closer look at the man gasped in shock.

“King Alistair?”

The man gave a chuckle, devoid of humour.

“Yes, that would be me. Not much of a king anymore when you haven’t got a kingdom, nor a people left to rule over though.”

* * *

Meeting the King in the dungeons of Redcliffe had been sobering. Finding the others that had initially come with Callon to Redcliffe even more so, even Solas who had not been one of the original companions was there.

He had snuck in, freeing as many as he possibly could in an attempt at rebellion.

Solas gave a scarred, wolfish grin at the word and gave a dry laugh when the word left his lips.

Mallorn had said that she didn’t know everything, and that not every path was one that would be taken but Callon believed that even she would have been shocked.

Alistair, as he had told Callon and Dorian to call him, had been one of the few to escape the castle when the two had disappeared. The other being Anora, who had been forced to flee to find her father and whatever forces that could be gathered by the two of them to fight.

Alistair had gone to Haven, finding Mallorn and the Inquisition forces who made an assault on Redcliffe. He had been captured, but managed to escape to send a message to the outside.

It hadn’t ended well.

He explained in very little detail about the year that had passed, agonisingly painful and full of misery and torture.

Mallorn had been one of the lucky ones left alive and at Alistair’s order rode to Orzammar to plead with the Dwarven Kingdom for sanctuary for any human, surface dwarf, elf or vashoth who wanted no part of the war on the surface.

It wouldn’t have succeeded if it weren’t Mallorn that had been sent, as King Behlen was moderately fond of her.

“What was left of the Inquisition evacuated as many as they could into the Thaig and into other reclaimed thaigs.”

Solas spoke up, the ringing of red lyrium echoing with each word.

“And then she did something incredibly…”

“Stupid?”

“Unbelievable?”

Varric looked the worst of all of them, the corruption clearly taking its hold far quicker in the dwarf than the others.

“Foolish, I was going to say foolish.” Solas looked ahead, ignoring the grief on Alistair’s face. “According to the rumours, and what her son has been able to tell us she faced the Elder One herself in a bid to delay his forces when they lay siege to Haven.”

Callon’s heart felt like it was in his throat, “ _What?”_

Alistair gave a dry sob, “And this was after she and another had torn down what remained of the Veil above the Korcari Wilds and Ostagar.”

Dorian spoke up from his quiet contemplation.

“The Veil must have been incredibly thin there to have been torn down so easily.”

Leliana interjected, her voice angrier than Callon had ever heard her. “The veil is the least of our worries now. Mallorn would not want us to dwell on her death, we must move forward.”

The former King rounded on his friend, “I will not forget her, nor what she sacrificed. Not what any of them sacrificed, especially not Mallorn or Zevran or…”

His voice broke, “ _Or_ Kana…”

There was a gentleness in Leliana’s tone, even if she did not look at the broken man beside her.

“Callon and his _companion_ are going to fix what has happened, so it shall never happen in their timeline. Nothing more can be done for us, we are only delaying the inevitable.”

Solas’ voice was quiet, not meaning to be heard by anyone, but Callon had sharp hearing.

“Our plummet into the abyss is waiting.”

* * *

The fight with Alexius was short, even with the multiple fade rifts opening right in the middle of the dilapidated throne room.

“I’ll need an hour, that will give me time to rewind the magic.”

“You haven’t got an hour!” Leliana shouted at Dorian, startling him from his crouch over his former mentors body.

The doors rattled and shook.

“We will try to hold the forces back as best we can, but when you get back give this to Mallorn. It’s hers afterall, and give my love to Kana if you see her.”

Alistair reached into his torn coat, pulling out a book that had been locked tight with chains and what looked to be pure lyrium.

How it had not been tainted, Callon was unsure but he nodded his head in promise.

“I would do anything to see her smile again.”

The Iron Bull, whose tongue had been torn out, Alistair and Varric, all three giving Callon and Dorian a small smile, left the room to stand vanguard outside the hall as the doors closed with a _creak._

Solas turned to meet Callon’s eyes, the once piercing blue now a fiery and bloody red.

“Tell the Reaper she was right. Tell her to stop the wolf before they do something unforgivably stupid.”

He nodded towards Dorian and turned, staff ready to the door.

“Go! You both have as much time as I have arrows!”

Leliana did much the same, as the doors swing open. Two bloodied and beaten bodies thrown, discarded as though they were lint. Callon was unable to tear his eyes away from the horrific sight.

The King and the Storyteller no more, as the Apostate and Spymaster soon met their own fates.

Dorian had to drag Callon through the portal, as a dragon roared in the distance.

* * *

**Present Time, Redcliffe Castle, 9:41 Dragon**

The Future that May Have Been had been even worse than what Mallorn had attempted to describe. So many good people had been lost, trying to save the lives of everyone and especially for the Freedom of Thedas.

The Veil had been haphazardly torn down around Redcliffe, and from a distance you could see exactly where there was no distinguishing between the Waking World and the World of the Dreamers.

The time spent in the Future that May Have Been tallied up to a total of a day, but even then it was far too long. Dorian and Callon were worn, bloodied and grief weighed upon the pair.

Upon making it back to the present and securing the alliance of what was left of the rebel mages in Redcliffe, all Callon wanted to do was go back to Haven, but there was still work to be done here.

Callon hoped that Kaiden and the group that went to the Templars had had better luck.

“Excuse me, your Worship?”

The person who had addressed Callon was the King of Fereldan, who had walked away from his guards and advisors, who were talking with Leliana. Callon almost threw up, remembering what had happened to both Leliana and the King in that future.

But that future wasn’t to be.

Alistair Theirin was a tall man with piercing eyes that were normally filled with humour, but were currently filled with a mix of fear and determination. They had a hue to them that reminded Callon of someone, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“Callon Lavellan, your majesty. I’m _not_ …”

Callon didn’t want to offend the man, but he was getting incredibly sick of correcting people. If they didn’t want to call him by his given name, then at least call him Lavellan. He would even take _elf_ or _hey, you!_ at this point.

“Not a fan of your title?” The King laughed, “I understand. Please call me Alistair.”

Callon felt relief wash over him, someone who understood.

“I just wanted to know if you had received a letter from Mallorn Tüile?”

“A letter?”

“Ah, my friend has a habit of helping people in need.”

The King hadn’t known that Mallorn had joined the Inquisition then.

“Oh, I was wondering why would she send a letter? She came to Haven a week after the Breach and sort of joined the Inquisition.”

Alistair sighed, raking a hand of his face. “Of course she did. No matter, I got a letter from her not too long ago about a Dark Future? That you’re here now, does that mean that that particular future is no longer in the cards?”

Callon nodded, blood running cold. He hoped that Alistair would never know of what had happened to him in that future.

“Did she happen to mention what would happen in that future?”

Alistair nodded, “She did, hence the reason why I’m armoured with weapons.”

It was only then that Callon noticed what the King said was true. Every single person who had arrived with the King was outfitted in full armour, with weapons in easy reach to either defend against attacks or to attack in general.

“She said that we needed to be prepared.”

A blonde haired woman with strong features and calculating eyes walked over to Alistair and Callon, “Brother-in-law, are you bothering the Herald?”

“No, Sister-in-Law. I’m not bothering him,” Alistair looked at Callon, almost pleading. “I hope not at least.”

Callon gave a dry chuckle, “No you’re not.”

“Good!”

“Well, it’s nice to see that you’re on a first name basis. Are you going to introduce me?”

Alistair rolled his eyes, “He knows Mallorn I’ll be surprised if she hasn’t already told him.”

“She hasn’t.”

The woman and Alistair looked a little shocked, before glancing at the other. Something told Callon that Mallorn was generally more open than what she had shown to the Inquisition.

“Oh… Well, Callon may I introduce you to Anora Mac Tir-Theirin my wonderful sister-in-law, Queen Dowager and advisor to the throne of Fereldan.”

Callon started, he knew of the Queen Dowager and her reputation. She had helped to advise her husbands brother when he ascended the throne after the Fifth Blight. Rumours were abound that she should have ascended the throne after her husbands death, whilst others believed her to be just as bad as her father.

“Pleasure to meet you, my lady.”

He wasn’t sure what to address her as, but that seemed to be just as good as anything.

“You as well.”

The three stood in silence for a moment before all attempted to speak at once, causing each one to laugh. Their laughter brought the attention of most of the room to them inadvertently, with Dorian walking over to them.

“Your Majesty, my lady.”

His accent immediately put the two on alert, but Dorian powered on.

“My name is Dorian Pavus and I know that it isn’t much, but I do wish to apologise for my fellow countrymen and women. Magister Alexius was once my mentor and I cannot help but wonder if I had been there for him I could have done something to prevent him from doing something so stupid.”

“Lord Pavus, thank you for the sentiment but you cannot control other peoples actions. I know that better than most.”

Anora spoke, a soft look on her face. Her father was Loghain Mac Tir who was both hero and villain, but still her father.

“ _Ah_.”

Alistair and Callon looked to each other, not knowing what to say when Felix walked over, accompanied by a guard.

“I do apologise for interrupting your majesty, my lords and lady. With my father being taken into Inquisition custody and the rest of the Venatori arrested, I need to go back to the Magisterium. If I am able, I would like to speak with them about the good the Inquisition is able to do.”

Felix had changed out of the clothing that marked a member of the Venatori and into clothing that resembled similarly the clothing that Dorian wore (except with two sleeves, not just one.)

“Already Felix?”

Dorian was very clearly and rightly concerned for his friend, the Blight was obviously catching up to the other man.

“Yes, I’m afraid so Dorian. I’m not sure how much time I have left.”

That gave Callon a thought, Felix was suffering from what Callon could only assume to be Blight sickness. The King was a Grey Warden, maybe he would be able to do something for Dorian’s friend?

“Alistair, forgive me for asking, but would a Grey Warden be able to do anything?”

Dorian and Felix turned to face Callon, barely disguised hope in their eyes. Alistair rubbed at the back of his head, thinking deeply.

“Possibly, but my love is the one that normally recruits those who wish to undertake the Joining. That would be the only thing that I could foreseeably think of, especially since it looks as if the sickness has progressed this far already.”

The King reached beneath his cloak, puling out a vial of dark liquid that looked to be blood and something else.

“Mallorn mentioned something in her letter, I’m not sure if you wish to take this now or later but it may be your only option to survive the sickness.”

He held the vial out to Felix, who took it with a shaking hand.

“Thank you, your majesty.”

Alistair shook his head voice low, “Don’t thank me yet.”

He stopped speaking, pulling aside his collar a little to show small a spattering of small purple veins. They were only barely visible beneath the mans skin, but it was clear to everyone who saw them that the Blight was slowly making itself known on the King. The markings were there one moment and gone the next, as if his own body was trying to fight the stain.

Anora looked away as the King covered the skin back up again, clearly in anguish at the marks on her brother-in-laws skin. Her own father, if the stories were to be believed, was to have become a Warden if not for Mallorn stepping in to bargain on behalf of the man.

“It may not even work.”

* * *

After Felix had left, Dorian walking him out, obviously hoping that this would not be the last time that he saw his friend, the remaining mages filed out after the scouts.

Grand Enchanter Fiona had been requested to remain behind for a moment to speak with the King. Alistair had been quite adamant that the woman explain herself and the decisions that had been made that resulted in a Magister taking over the castle and kicking his family out.

Fiona hadn’t been able to fully explain it herself, only the her fear of her mages being further persecuted had grown exponentially as if it had been influenced by an outside source.

“What happened to your phylacteries when you split from the Circles?”

The King’s question brought those left in the throne room to a halt, complete and utter silence enveloping the room.

“I.. I’m not sure. The room holding the phylacteries in the White Spire was destroyed, and with that all that was inside.”

The Grand Enchanter looked lost, her eyes searching the King as his posture changed from directly confrontational to slightly more understanding.

“ _Ah_.”

Callon watched as Alistair walked over towards the woman, Anora not far behind. The Kingplaced a hand on Fiona’s shoulder, grasping it tightly.

“Some of the phylacteries were stolen, or at least that is what an informative of mine has told me.”

Fiona looked ready to faint, only Alistair’s hand on her shoulder keeping her upright. Anora continued.

“There have been twenty or so mages have been implicated in things that they would have previously never even considered doing. They have no recollection of making those decisions.”

“It seems that someone, likely a member of the Venatori, has been manipulating mages from across the South into doing their bidding and that of the supposed Elder One since the Mage-Templar war began.”

Callon felt like an outsider as he watched the stern faced woman collapse, her knees unable to hold her weight as the implications hit her. Her eyes welled up with tears as she began to heave, hysterics bursting from her.

Anora and Alistair helped her to her feet, walking her over towards the now abandoned throne that had been left vacant since Leliana’s people had arrested Magister Alexius.

“ _What have I done? What did they do to me?_ ”

* * *

The trip back to Haven was eerily silent, the book held in Callon’s grip felt like a led weight. It was too heavy, the emotional toll it carried.

It was too much.

He needed to give it to Mallorn and fast. Hopefully it would weigh less on her, but he did not think that it would.

She knew what was at stake.

Fiona had stayed behind for a short while in Redcliffe after her break down in the throne room. The King and Anora had been kind to her, regardless of what had happened. Apparently Alistair had needed to speak with the former Grand Enchanter about something important and that he would send Anora back with her to Haven in a short while. Anora was going to be Fereldan’s ambassador to the Inquisition, or at least that is what she had bluntly stated as the remaining Inquisition soldiers were leaving.

Callon couldn’t help but wonder what the reaction would be from the Marquis DuRellion and his wife the Lady Machen, considering that they hadn’t negotiated the terms of ownership with both the Empress Celine and King Alistair.

Anora would not be happy with an Orlesian claiming ownership of a Fereldan town.

* * *

**Present Time, War Table, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

It had been a few days since everyone had arrived back in Haven, with the now disbanded Templar Order and the Mages

“Oh dear.”

Callon had handed me a familiar journal, one that I had been writing in earlier that morning. The copy from the Future that Would Never Be was more worn, and someone had attempted to break the enchantments but they held strong.

“The King gave me this to give to you, he said that it was yours in that future.”

All eyes were on me, with the rest of the Inner circle looking on as I undid the bindings.

The book fell open with a thud, the stone that had been shaped by Paragon Caridin slamming onto the table.

“What does it say?”

Leliana, ever the curious one, spoke up first. She was peering over my shoulder, trying to read the letters.

It was in English.

She wouldn’t have been able to read it unless she knew the written language, and I had only taught it to a few people. Scanning the page, there wasn’t a whole lot of information that I didn’t already know but something caught my attention.

Written in what was recognisably Ancient Elvhen, a written language that I had picked pieces up from my time with the spirits, was written the words b _roken, destroyed and grieving_.

“Oh dear.”

“What is it, _naneth._ ”

There would be only one reason I would write those words, in that language and that would be for Solas to eventually read. I couldn’t help but wonder what future me was thinking, the wolf was a curious creature by nature and this would undoubtedly make the curiosity worse.

Silently I slid the book towards the Ancient Elvhen sitting opposite, which he carefully took, reading the words.

“That’s… that’s not good.”

“No, I didn’t think that it would be.”

“Mallorn.”

I turned to Leliana, “It reads _danem_ _dalem_ _dan’lathal_. In other words broken, destroyed and grieving.”

Dorian piped up from his corner of the room, “That does not sound good.”

“What would you mean?”

Vivienne looked as curious as her carefully cultivated mask would allow her.

“At a guess? The world was broken, the veil destroyed and all, mortal or spirit, began to grieve the loss of the world.”

“Why would spirits care if the veil was destroyed? Why would the grieve?”

Vivienne would forever be terrified of being possessed it seemed, even with her current track record of zero possessions.

“And what makes you think that what you have written means that?”

“That would be the language that it was written in.”

Vivienne put her hand out, expecting Solas to hand the book over. He did so, but slow enough that it clearly aggravated her.

She took one look at the page and scoffed, dismissing the words written on the page.

“What is this? Squiggles?”

I couldn’t help but feel offended on behalf of the written English and Ancient Elvhen languages, but before I could vocalise my thoughts Feynren spoke up.

“Those _squiggles_ as you so aptly put it are my legacy, my people’s legacy.”

“I don’t think she was talking about the Ancient Elvhen, Feynren.”

“Still my legacy, I am your son after all.”

* * *

The meeting continued on, without much input from myself as I was still reading through what I had written, making notes where I felt it needed to be made; but not in the Future book, the one that was of the Present.

I came to a section where it was clear that the person writing was no longer myself, even though the letters were virtually the same.

It had to be Feynren’s hand.

_‘Naneth is gone._

_She took hundreds of the bastards down with her though, that’s the way she would have wanted it._

_But why? Why did she have to go? Why now when papae and I need her? When the world needs her? She took the Veil down, in secret. The Wolf, papae and naneth were talking a lot through those rocks. I hoped that they had a plan._

_But there was no plan._

_She died protecting_ me _._

_She died protecting papae._

_Papae won’t speak to anyone but me, but even then it is so little I’m scared he’ll never speak again._

_She died so that hundreds of us could escape to Cad’Halash. Clan Sabrae will welcome us there, they wouldn’t leave us in despair. Ma’asa’ma’lin would be so disappointed if they did.’_

Future me had brought the Wolf into our plans, and apparently Zev and I had told Callon who he was. Either that, or he had figured it out. It wasn’t like Solas tried to hide it much, his knowledge was too much sometimes.

Most times in fact.

Another hand continued where Feynren left off.

_’Zevran is gone. He died right in front of me, shielding me._

_Mallorn wouldn’t have known this was coming, but she knew that the calling would be louder here than in the Anderfels._

_She knew that this was coming, that’s why she told me to stay far away. But I couldn’t do tha’_

Carver’s writing trailed off, a blood stain was left on the rest of the page.

They must have been ambushed. But there were a few word left on the next page over, written in Ancient Elvhen.

_‘If the world is ever reversed, I will not make the mistakes he did. I will not destroy all the people. Please my friend, stop me.’_

I let out a sob, the sound quieting the room.

I looked up, straight into the eyes of Feynren, who was gazing at me in concern. I held out my arms, my throat to choked up to speak. He knew what I needed right away as he fell into them, burying his head in my neck.

He was alive here, so was Carver and Zevran.

We still had hope, which is something that those from that Future never did.

There was more to the journal, hundreds of pages written it seemed by multiple hands. The breadth of knowledge that was inside this one book was astounding, and absolutely terrifying to behold.

Maybe a blood locking spell to keep it safe?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a few new things in this chapter that haven't been in the previous ones.
> 
>  _Cad'Halash_ was a Dwarves settlement that took in Elvhen fleeing from the fall of Arlathan and Imperium slavers that was once thought to have been destroyed by dark spawn but was in fact destroyed by Kal-Sharok who were scared about the Imperium finding out and going back on their alliance. Cadash Thaig was built atop the destroyed settlement.
> 
>  _The White Spire_ is pretty much where the Mage Rebellion took off, even though a majority blame what happened in Kirkwall and Anders, this circle tower is where it properly began. 
> 
> Phylacteries are blood magic, and blood magic can manipulate or be manipulated. Or at least that's my general theory as to why Fiona didn't look more into the whole thing; even with the unwitting help of Arl Gallagher Wulff.


	12. Conversations Abound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some conversations are held, some with more success than others. (Especially when trying to talk to an Antivan Crow who happens to be incredibly attractive, with a voice to match.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have honestly no idea how I’ve managed to get this written, especially with work being an almost hell scape due to Christmas shoppers and the need to have everything for as cheaply and as quickly as possible. But I did it! And I really hope that you like it!

**In the Past, Camp, Somewhere along the Imperial Highway, Haven, 9:31 Dragon**

_Zevran really was far too pretty for his own good._

_I couldn’t even look him in the eye without blushing something shocking, or stuttering or dropping whatever I was holding._

_Alistair was the only one that sympathised with me; Kana and Morrigan thought that it was hilarious and would laugh into their hands whenever I did something silly._

_“Fuck it!”_

_I couldn’t just stand around being absolutely useless whenever Zevran even so much as looked in my general direction. I had to confront this head on; by stalking directly up to Zevran and introducing myself apparently._

_“Hello, I’m Mallorn and I find you terribly attractive and distracting and oh my god Mallorn shut up!”_

_The hand I had put out for Zevran to shake was taken almost gently and a small kiss pressed upon my palm. Zevran was confused initially at my rambling, before grinning and laughing as I continued to berate myself from the word vomit that I couldn’t seem to stop saying._

_“Ah, that is incredibly flattering. Would it be so bold as to say that I find you attractive as well?”_

_That sounded familiar, slightly altered, but still familiar._

_“Um, thank you? I mean, I don’t find myself to be attractive?”_

_He laughed again, this time softer. “That does not mean that others will not.”_

_The assassin dipped his head again, kissing my hand once again before walking off, speaking._

_“I look forward to conversing with you, bellisima.”_

_I couldn’t help but notice the almost sway to his hips as he walked off._

_Bloody attractive Antivan!_

* * *

**Present Time, War Table, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

All those who were not fighting or helping to seal the breach were sequestered away within the walls of the Haven chantry, ready to leave at a moments notice.

I knew that we were going to be attacked by Corypheus, but I couldn’t be sure of who else. The Grey Warden could be a possibility, but I wouldn’t believe that until I saw it. Calpernia and Samson would have been needed no longer, especially with both the Templars and the Mages being pulled from underneath his nose. Or at least one of them wouldn’t be needed any longer, someone would still be needed as a vessel.

Perhaps the zealots within the Venatori? Or any remaining mage or templar left behind in the struggle? Surely there would be at least a few that we had missed, or that had joined voluntarily as they couldn’t see a future that wasn’t filled with bloodshed?

Regardless we had to be prepared for anyone and anything.

I had excused myself from the preparations to move against the breach, believing that I would be best suited to defending Haven in case of a preemptive strike from Corypheus and his ilk. Half of the former Templars and the Mages would be remaining behind, whilst the other half would go with Callon and some of the Inner Circle.

All I had to do now was see if I was able to convince Solas to reveal the exact location of Skyhold early. It shouldn’t be too difficult since Solas himself was well aware of the danger that Corypheus posed. That would be the easy bit, speaking to Solas would be the hard part.

Fortunately, he wished to speak with me about what had been written in the book brought back from the future.

“You know Ancient Elvhen?”

“Only a little. Speaking the language is a lot easier for me than actually writing it.”

I could vaguely remember discussions online about how it wasn’t even technically a language, but a cipher. The cipher wasn’t easy for me, so I hadn’t bothered learning much of it then and now I definitely regretted it.

“It’s a beautiful language.” Solas sighed, turning to look up at the sky. Towards the breach. “It is a shame that much was lost when Arlathan fell.”

“It isn’t so lost as you might believe,” I knew that I had his attention the moment I spoke. “There are still those from Arlathan in secluded temples in the Arbor Wilds and I know of at least three Wandering Keepers who haven’t aged at all in the time I’ve known them. The Dalish keep what little they know in books kept by the Keeper of their clans.”

Solas looked excited at the mention of more Elvhen from the time of Arlathan, but scoffed when I mentioned the Dalish.

“The Dalish are children.”

“Yes, but children will only learn if they have been taught by someone older and with the knowledge. What little knowledge most Dalish have is fragmented, but they have the beginnings.”

Solas stood in thought, taking in my point of view before he sighed. “It is pointless to discuss this at the moment, no matter how much I would enjoy the debate.”

“Understandable, it would be nice to speak with someone who is far more willing to share knowledge than the majority of Keepers I have met.”

Solas grinned, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had arrived. “That sounds enjoyable.”

All I needed to do now was the ask about Skyhold, or at least the location of where Tarasyl’an Te’las was.

“In your fade travel, have you come across a place in a range of mountains by the name of _Tarasy’lan Te’las_?”

I used the Elvhen name for the fortress, rather than the common. Not to say that I didn’t like the name Skyhold, but I wasn’t above attempting to subtly manipulate the wolf into speaking more of his actual past rather than the evasive answers he would normally have given.

He looked surprised, and almost immediately answered. “I have, it is more commonly known as Skyhold. It is supposed to be where the sky was held back and has seen enough battles that spirits are still drawn to the fortress even after it had been abandoned for centuries.”

“Why do you ask?”

“The Elder One will come, and we must be ready for when they do. Haven, whilst lovely, is completely indefensible to an oncoming hoard. I have already spoken to Cullen and Leliana about withdrawing all civilians to a safer location but it has been difficult since I don’t actually know where to take them.”

Solas was once again deep in thought, “You have _seen_ this? The Elder One come?”

“Unfortunately, but as it stands I’m as blind as everyone else.” He looked at me in confusion, so I further explained. “If we had only reached out to the mages, then the Templar Order would have become something of an abomination. A majority of the upper echelon would have become Horrors of Red Lyrium, as would the rest of the order. Poisoned. If we had reached out to just the templars, the rebel mages would have been forcibly inducted into the Venatori and then we would have had to have fought them.”

And I was not going to kill my friend's mother.

“And now you have no foresight as to who may come with the Elder One.”

I shook my head, frustrated. I loathed not knowing what to do, especially when lives were at risk. And there were plenty of lives at risk here, too many lives.

“It could be a combination of both, stragglers that got caught up or even true believers whatever cause this Elder One has.”

Solas placed a hand on my shoulder, “I understand. Before we leave for the Breach, I will mark the location on a map so that you are able to get a head start.”

“ _Ma serannas,_ Solas.”

* * *

**Present Time, In the Fade 9:41 Dragon**

Solas found himself in the clearing once again, plants and trees could be seen in every single direction that he looked. The wolf looked around, spotting the elvhen woman practising movements with Valour, once more dressed in armour that he had no knowledge of.

There was another spirit with them, one whom Solas had seen around before within the Fade. Benevolence.

Who was watching the other two spar, calling out suggestions every now and then. Benevolence wasn’t normally one who sat out of a tough fight if they could help it, or at least this particular sprint wasn’t.

“Back again, _fen_?”

He wasn’t exactly hiding his presence this time, it would have been too much effort and Mallorn clearly knew that he was there.

“I suppose so, we never did finish our conversation.”

Valour and Mallorn both put down their weapons, something that he was great full for. He didn’t want to have to defend himself against either of them in this space if they were to attack. He didn’t think that they would, but he could never be too careful.

“What is it that you wished to discuss?”

Solas tilted his head, “The last time we met you said something about the Veil.”

Valour scoffed, whilst Benevolence chuckled.

“The Veil is a construct that has been falling apart since almost day one.”

Valour’s voice was almost scathing, but Solas didn’t really notice.

“Falling apart?”

Mallorn rolled her eyes, “I would say that you were young, but you are not and unless you have been sleeping for a thousand years then you really have no excuse to not notice how varying parts of the Waking World have virtually no Veil whatsoever.”

Solas wanted to snarl at her but held his tongue. He had been asleep for more than a thousand years but he had seen what went on in the Waking World. He may not have lived through it, too connected to the Fade and the magic setting the Veil up draining him more than he would have liked to admit.

(A part of him couldn’t help but wonder if he would feel the same way about everything he knew if he had actually lived through those years and only visited the Fade in his sleep.)

“The Korcari Wilds for example, so little of the Veil still exists there. Ostagar, the Arbor Wilds, Din’an Hanin, even _Kirkwall_ for fuck's sake would have been a much better place to attempt pulling down the Veil!”

Mallorn threw her hands in the air, steadily getting more and more annoyed.

She had apparently thought long and hard about where it old be best to take down the Veil. Solas mentioned this.

“You have thought about this before, haven’t you?”

Benevolence was the one to roll their eyes this time, “What Elvhen hasn’t? What spirit who lived before Arlathan hasn’t?”

That specific wording made his ears perk up. Surely the spirit couldn’t be suggesting that the woman in front of him was one of the People? One of _his_ people? She did look more like the Elvhen that he was used to seeing around every corner, but he quickly pushed that thought out of his mind.

Nothing could stray him from his path, he couldn’t let it.

“Yes, I have thought about it. But the world as it is would not be able to handle the joining; neither side would take it well.”

As much as Solas wished to deny this, he couldn’t. The way most people reacted to mages, let alone spirits did not bring him much confidence.

Solas could feel another presence approaching, hastily and unexpectedly.

It was another spirit, this one dressed in a strange multicoloured cloak made of what seemed to be scraps of court dress and a large swirled and pointed hat.

“Hello Creativity, I thought you were with Zevran?”

The strange dress was certainly explained by the name.

“Hello my friends, hello _fen._ ” Everyone in the clearing got a wave, even if the one directed at him was rather suspicious.

“I bring word from Zev-Zev. He said that he’s been held up by a rogue murder, but he should be finished sooner rather than later. He also said to be careful, and that he misses you dearly.”

Mallorn had a small, but fond smile on her face as the spirit spoke.

“When you see him next, tell him that I have a book full of the most interesting things and that I love him and as does Feyn.”

Creativity smiled, cheerful. “I will, and I have also given a message to Feynren from his father.”

“I cannot thank you enough for your help, _limbe._ ” Mallorn walked over towards the spirit and engulfed them in a hug, which they returned.

“No need to thank me.”

Solas did not notice the rest of their conversation, to fixate on the mention of the book. He wondered what other information could be found inside.

He didn’t notice Benevolence nor Valour keeping a watchful eye on him as he slipped from the dream and back into the Waking World, frowns upon their faces.

They were going to have to keep a closer eye on the wolf.

Especially since it seemed that their friend was going to try her hardest to pull him back from the brink, even without him knowing.

* * *

**In the Past, Camp, Somewhere along the Imperial Highway, Haven, 9:31 Dragon**

_It was about time that we moved onto our next destination, which happened to be the Brecilian Forest; where Zathrian’s clan was and the location of the Lady of the Forest._

_Oghren, who had come with us after leaving Orzammar mostly drunk and smelling exactly like you would think someone who had bathed in alcohol would; alongside him were Sten, Leliana and Shale, who would be staying behind at camp with Bodhan and Sandal. Alistair argued that a Warden should stay behind as a precaution, but Sandal put his foot down in an uncharacteristic manner._

_“We are safe here.”_

_Everyone was shocked; no one was expecting for Sandal to speak, let alone in a complete sentence that made sense._

_I was the only one that seemed to take his words to heart, “If Sandal says that you all will be safe, then I believe him.”_

_Kana was curious, “Why?”_

_“That boy is more, far more than what he seems.” I said, turning to face her and the others._

_“Listening to him may be the best thing that we could do at this moment.”_

_Or any moment afterwards._

* * *

_The Brecilian Forest was ahead of us, looming. It was almost silent, if not for the distant howling of wolves and the swaying of the trees was almost sinister as though we were intruders, but seemed to cheer slightly at the presence of the elves amongst the group._

_“Stop right there, outsider! The Dalish have camped in this spot and I suggest that you go elsewhere and be quick about it.”_

_Dalish hunters surrounded us, arrows pointed at our heads and hearts._

_“Andaran atish’an, we are to speak with your Keeper about the Grey Warden treaties.”_

_The woman who had initially spoke lowered her bow, surprised at the words coming from my mouth._

_“You wear no vallaslin, but you speak our language. Are you shem?”_

_“Not_ precisely _, and just because I do not wear the markings of the pantheon does not mean I do not believe.”_

_I knew very well that they existed, so disbelieving in them would be a stupid thing to do. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Morrigan give me a look of disbelief._

_“We shall see,” the hunter turned towards Kana who did have vallaslin. “Now you are clearly Dalish, what are you doing with_ them _?”_

_“Like my friend said, we are here on behalf of the Grey Wardens and the need to fulfil the treaties.”_

_The arrows pointing at us were lowered at the lead hunters signal, before slipping away into the shadows. The lead hunter sighed before nodding._

_“I suppose that remains to be seen, I will take you to see the Keeper. He will be the one to make the decision.”_

_She began to walk off, expecting us to follow her. She abruptly stopped and turned to face us._

_“But make no mistake, we are always watching and the_ shems _amongst you best be on their best behaviour.”_

* * *

_We were unsure as to what constituted as being on our best behaviour, but staying silent and only communicating with our body language seemed to be doing the trick, as the head hunter led us towards the Keeper._

_Zathrian was a tall, bald elf whose eyes were sad and almost drained of life._

_I couldn’t understand the Ancient Elvhen having lived as long as they did if the few hundred years that this Keeper had lived, had suffered. It just didn’t seem like a good idea to wish to live or have lives that long._

_I couldn’t help but pity him._

_“I see you have brought guests Mithra. I have precious little time to speak with outsiders today.”_

_“These two claim to be Grey Wardens, and these are their travelling companions.”_

_Zathrian gestured for us to join him near the fire. Kana went to sit immediately, more comfortable than any of us to be taking directions from the Keeper. Zevran and I were next, with Alistair not far behind. Morrigan declined, deciding to remain standing but still stood close._

_“Ah, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Zathrian, the Keeper of this clan.”_

_“It is a pleasure to meet you hahren.” Hopefully deferring to him as an elder would help us in the situation. Who knows?_

_“My name is Mallorn Tuile of Lothering and this is Kana Mahariel of Clan Sabrae and the Grey Wardens. Our other companions are Alistair of the Grey Wardens, Zevran Arainai of the Antivan Crows and Morrigan, daughter and apprentice of Asha’bellanar.”_

_I spoke, my voice quiet. I hoped that by using titles, or at least titles of a sort, it would make our purpose to become clearer._

_Zathrian looked definitely more interested now, especially with each new name. We were definitely an eclectic group, each of us having an individual connection to the Elvhen even if two of us didn’t know it._

_“Yes, thank you for letting us speak with you.”_

_Kana was more formal around this man, the respect was clear in her eyes and tone._

_“Of Clan Sabrae? I heard what happened, ma serannas for the loss of your clansman. His loss is a loss to all the People.”_

_Zathrian truly seemed saddened by the loss of Tamlen._

_Kana wiped unshed tears away from her eyes, “Thank you, Keeper.”_

* * *

**Present Time, Underground Pathways, Haven, 9:41 Dragon**

Chancellor Rodrick was suspicious, but understanding quickly found its way on his face as he understood the severity of the situation.

“I wonder if it was by the Makers choice that I would live whilst so many of my fellows died at the Conclave so as to show the path out of Haven?”

“Regardless of it were to be Divine Interference or not, we’re all glad that you are able to help.”

The Chancellor gave me a small, almost unnoticeable smile before turning around to continue to lead. Cole, who had chosen to help us evacuate the residents of Haven followed along behind him, making sure that everyone was able to notice his existence.

It wouldn’t do for people to notice that something was wrong in the situation that we were in.

Kaiden was carrying a few of the orphaned children in his arms, with a few more strapped to his back. The kids had truly taken to the Tal-Vashoth, with everything that they had been witness to the large horned mage wasn’t something that they apparently feared.

Children were absolutely brilliant and incredibly resilient, especially for things that adults considered to be wrong. Evil. Out of the ordinary.

Amongst the group were a number of soldiers, the majority of them had volunteered to help escort the evacuees. Some had to be, _coerced_ for lack of a better word. Not all the soldiers that had joined the Inquisition had done it for a legitimate reason, most had but for some, they were just wanted to fight and cause chaos.

Some men and women just wanted blood and joining the Inquisition was apparently their way to draw it. They reminded me of the bandits outside of Lothering all those years ago, killing and robbing defenceless merchants and refugees just because they could and all for a little coin.

People would never change.

* * *

Haven was silent as those that had been at the breach returned, having managed to seal it once and for all. There was no one left apart from those that would be able to fight back with blade and magic.

We had somehow made it look as though Haven was still inhabited; we needed to sell the illusion that we were unprepared or so Leliana told me. I trusted her skills at subterfuge far more than I trusted mine.

“How did it go?”

Callon grinned, almost childlike in his enthusiasm.

“It’s done!”

“At least the Breach is, now we await what comes next.”

Solas spoke, voice calm even as Callon sighed, eyes becoming downcast.

Leliana turned to me, giving me a searching look.

“I cannot be certain at this point, but I know that something will happen and it won’t be good.”

“Then we’ll just have to be as prepared as we can be.”

The returned soldiers were milling about, preparing the trebuchets ready for launch. Supply cachets were being refilled and moved towards defensible locations, sigils were hastily being scrawled onto the ground and walls around Haven and many of the mages and templars were sharing looks of dread with the other.

It was clear on their faces that they wondered if the Inquisition hadn’t come for them, that whatever attacked Haven next would have most likely have been them.

* * *

The sky was dark, the night air was even colder than it had been in the previous nights, although that could have been due to nerves.

“Forces are approaching! Everyone, to arms!”

They were indeed and they were coming down the mountain far quicker than what I would have expected. I remember during the Blight the darkspawn hoard pillaging and rampaging through Denerim, but the sight upon the mountainside was something else entirely.

The Magister leading them would have been intimidatingly tall if you hadn’t been around Qunari, but even so you could see him from kilometres away.

“Let us in! We’ve come to warn you!”

Samson, a wolf helm upon his head and no red lyrium in sight and Maddox stood side by side outside the gates of Haven, fighting off a group of Venatori and Red Templars, finishing them off quickly as we reached them.

“The Elder One comes for us all.”

Maddox was soft-spoken, but his voice was strong. The Tranquil brand upon his forehead stood out, despite the emotion in his voice and the magic he was throwing out of his palms.

“The woman with him goes by the name of Calpernia. She’s the commander of the Venatori.”

Samson’s knees gave out slightly, causing Cullen to lunge forward to catch him.

“Hello Knight-Captain, or is it Commander now?”

“Commander now,” Cullen still seemed to be in shock at the supposedly Tranquil mage who was still shooting spells off at a few Red Templar archers who had snuck up behind them.

“Are you going to let us in, Commander?”

Maddox spoke, whilst Cullen nodded almost absentmindedly still in shock at the man.

“Did you need a health potion?”

The two turned to me and smiled, immediately recognising my voice despite the years it had been since I saw them.

“We’ll take a couple if you have some spare.”

Samson’s voice was gruff, but there wasn’t the ringing of lyrium that once may have been.

I grabbed a couple from my pouch, handing them to the two men as we made our way swiftly into Haven, the door slamming behind us.

“How much time do we have?”

Callon looked at me, ignoring the still gaping Seeker and Commander (and the majority of the remaining Templar’s and mages).

“Til the dragon.”

“Dragon?” This was said in varying tones of voice, most of shock but a few of fear and awe. The Iron Bull didn’t need an explanation of the reverence in his voice. (Or the lust.)

“More horcrux than dragon.”

Solas was confused, “What is a horcrux?”

I hadn’t expected my muttering to be heard, but my answer would have been lost to the roar of the dragon flying overhead regardless.

“Mallorn, that doesn’t look like a dragon! That looks like...”

Leliana’s voice was raised, not quite shouting.

“Urthemiel? Yes, it does, but it’s not an Archdemon.”

She looked like she was going to strangle me, but was interrupted by the roar of the dragon again, as the doors to Haven shook.

“Everyone! To the chantry!”

* * *

The Chantry was full, but would not be for much longer as many started to leave through the underground pathways, following behind the group that had left earlier that day. It wouldn’t take them long to catch up, as they were going to have to go around the force that Corypheus had brought with him.

“They want you, they want that mark on your hand.”

“The Elder One will kill everyone to get to you.”

Samson and Maddox were completely in sync with each other in a way that I had never seen a Templar and a mage be. I had a vague recollection of Rhys and Evangeline being in a similar manner, but those memories were half-forgotten at this point.

I couldn’t be sure if it had been canon or fanon either.

“Of course they do.”

Callon looked absolutely done at this point, convinced that this was his end.

“The trebuchet, that’s where we’ll face him?”

I nodded, throat too tight for speech.

I honestly don’t know how I made it through the Blight, let alone make it to this moment in time where the sky was torn asunder and an ancient magister was bearing down on us.

“I’ll cause a distraction then, get their attention.”

“I’ll come with you.”

The words were out of my mouth before I realised I had opened it.

Callon weakly smiled at me, “Thank you.”

Solas nodded at him, as did the Iron Bull.

“We’ll help carve a path.”

Callon seemed grateful for the help, but he still looked as though he thought there was no hope left for him.

As we were leaving the Chantry, farewelling the others as they left beneath the brick walls, I whispered into Callon’s ear.

“There is an open mine, aim for that when you run.”

I could only hope that he remembered, amidst the chaos that was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something that annoys me a little about this chapter is how little I go into the siege on Haven, but I couldn’t get myself to write it. Especially since Mallorn isn’t the Inquisitor, she didn’t really need to be in the thick of the action if that makes any sense? Like she is obviously there, trying her best to help and to save as many people as she can but she is only one person. (At the moment at least, but _shhh_ spoilers!)
> 
> _Tarasyl’an Telas_ is the elvhen name for Skyhold (or at least the building that stood on the spot that Skyhold once did)  
> I haven’t ever sided with the Templars in a play through (yet) but I had no idea that you would have to kill Fiona if you did so (and she’s been through enough in her life, I wouldn’t feel up to killing her at all!)
> 
> _Din’an Hanin_ is the resting place for the last of the Emerald Knights, who fought and protected the second Elvhen Nation of the Dales.
> 
> Kirkwall is theorised by some, including myself, as the place were the Magisters Sidereel performed their ritual to enter into the fade and hence the reason why Kirkwall is a bit of a weird (understatement) city-state; why blood mages and possessions and demons and why the place just sets itself on fire in times of trouble.
> 
> _Horcrux_ is a term from Harry Potter, and I definitely thought that it was fitting to add.
> 
> _Urthemiel_ was the Old God turned Archdemon of the Fifth Blight.
> 
> Also, I really hope that you enjoyed that surprise from Maddox and Samson; I really liked Samson in DA2 and couldn’t understand why they’d turned him into the almost-villain of DA: I. (And Maddox’s story made me want to cry, too.)


	13. Elvhen Discoveries Across the Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A High Priest of June and Mallorn have a history that isn't exactly friendly. And, discoveries are made in the past of Alistair's potential parentage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter for your enjoyment and just in time for Christmas! Whatever you may celebrate around this time of year, or not, I really hope that you are having a great day and that the next year is fantastic!  
> (It’s completely alien to think that it’s almost 2020… where did the year go?)

**In the Past, Dalish Camp, Brecilian Forest, 9:31 Dragon**

_Zathrian was a strange man._

_Yes, he had a tragic past and his grief was understandable but he hadn’t taken his eyes off of me or Alistair since we had first spoken. Even as we listened to the demands of the Clan and what they needed in return for them to hold true to the treaties._

_A treaty was an agreement, you shouldn’t have to continuously do favours for them to be met. Though, considering the widespread nature of the Dalish and the face that the treaties were from a time that Elvhen Halamshiral existed it did make sense._

_The almost constant watching felt strange._

_“You said you were from Lothering, do the shems there treat you well?”_

_Zathrian spoke directly to me, as we shared in a meal._

_“I’m not technically from Lothering, but whilst I was there I lived with a family of humans who treated me incredibly well. I never felt less than them, nor more.”_

_Zathrian and a group of children who had joined us looked intrigued, as did my companions._

_I hadn’t spoken about my past, clammed up about it even more since my panic attack in the Deep Roads._

_“If you’re not from Lothering, where are you from?”_

_This came from a small child, who looked no older than seven years old. His bright blue eyes were round, almost comically sized on his small face. I hadn’t realised how alien elvhen children looked until right then, having never seen one in person and the games really didn’t portray children all too well._

_“Da’len, that is the problem. I don’t know where I’m from.”_

_What a liar you turned out to be, Mallorn; mum would be ashamed._

_“I woke up on the outskirts of Lothering wearing strange clothing, something not from this age I was told; freezing cold and desperately hungry. I happened to be found by a young man by the name of Carver Hawke.”_

* * *

_We slept on the outside of the Dalish camp, having gotten there late in the afternoon. We had spent most of it speaking with those who would talk with us, mostly those curious enough to know what the outside world or those who wished to trade goods. Zevran had been eyeing a particularly fetching pair of gloves but didn’t have anything with him that he would have been willing to trade so had left for bed with one last look at them._

_I had some things to trade, so I bought them._

_(I hadn’t remembered at this point that to fall into a Romance with the Antivan, the lovely Dalish gloves were a part of that. It wouldn’t be until much later, when Zevran himself brought it up that it would remind me. But that was not then.)_

_None of us felt comfortable going after werewolves during a full moon, even if that particular legend didn’t really hold true in Thedas._

_At least I hoped that it didn’t._

_Zathrian had proceeded to question each member of the party, particularly about the epitaphs that I had added onto our names._

_He seemed to have a great respect for the two Grey Wardens, as a majority of Dalish seemed to have; Kana he obviously favoured, being Dalish herself. There was something in the way that he looked at Alistair though, as though he knew the secrets of his life.. He was fairly wary around Morrigan, even if she happened to be the daughter of Flemeth. Around Zevran he was cautious, but the curiosity and non-judgmental questions that Zevran had asked made him more relaxed._

_Around me, he was strange._

_I couldn’t exactly describe it, only that it seemed he wasn’t sure if I was real or not._

* * *

_“Melava inan enansal, ir su aravel tu elvaral, u na emma abelas. In elgar sa vir mana, in tu setheneran din emma na. lath sulevin, lath aravel ena, arla ven tu vir mahvir, melana ‘nehn enasal ir sa lethalin.”_

_An older woman, hair grey and lines upon her Mythal marked face, was singing, fletching arrows as she did so, as we made our way into the Brecilian Forest. It was haunting in the general silence, the words echoing around us._

_“Elvhenan, i tel’sal juvaslasir.”_

_I whispered, but not nearly quiet enough as the elder heard me._

_“It is nice to see that some of you young ones keep up with the language.”_

_I gave her a weak smile, “I don’t know nearly as much as I wish I did, but I’ll learn.”_

_She gave me a pointed stare, before a small grin came upon her face. “Make sure that you teach your friends here, especially the elvhen blood.”_

_I felt a chill go down my spine._

_She knew about Alistair._

_“How did you…”_

_The woman had a sly glint in her eyes as she answered, grin etched upon her face._

_“Know? I had a conversation with him in elvhen and he did not even notice.”_

* * *

**Present Time, Outskirts of Skyhold, 9:41 Dragon**

We had managed to escape the attack on Haven with the majority of people alive and well, though the trip to Skyhold itself was another matter entirely.

Many were not used to the bitter cold, some suffered with pneumonia and some passed because of this. Soldiers, volunteers and those conscripted alike that had been injured in one of the many scuffles passed from their wounds; Cole had been attempting to give comfort to as many as possible, but even a spirit couldn’t be in multiple places at once.

This upset him greatly, but he could admit that he could only help so many at once.

The numbers lost getting to Skyhold were not as great as they once may have been, but that did not mean that it hurt any less.

I couldn’t save everyone, no matter how hard I tried.

Those lost would haunt me regardless, decisions I could have made to prevent this from happening all together flashed through my mind.

“Thorn, stop.”

Leliana startled me out of my brooding.

“You did what you could, you’re only one person.”

“One person can start a revolution.”

She nodded, agreeing to my point. “But it takes more than one person, otherwise they’d be a martyr.”

And nobody needed a martyr.

Samson and Maddox’s presence baffled the majority, and especially terrified some when they caught sight of the brand on Maddox’s forehead. The two had been keeping to themselves, though we had talked throughout the journey with Feynren and Connor taking a bizarre interest in the pair.

Cullen, especially didn’t know what to think of this man who had seemingly overcome his lyrium addiction and the other, a mage who had been made tranquil but was not any longer.

As we got closer, there seemed to be a magic barrier around the fortress, distinctive and almost familiar magic surrounded the place. It was definitely Elvhen.

Quite possibly Ancient Elvhen.

But the fortress has been rebuilt by humans time and time again, possibly even by some of the Elvhen who had fled the Exalted Marches on the Dales.

Solas, who was further ahead of us with Callon put a hand out to stop us from going any further.

“There is magic here, we must proceed with caution.”

“Perhaps it would be a good idea for some of us to scout ahead, just in case?”

Feynren wasn’t too far behind me, and had been chatting with Connor who was bemused at the positive attention. Apparently many within the Circle had been cruel to him, outwardly dismissive because of his past.

“I’ll go!”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Solas appeared to approve of the comment.

“Solas, Mallorn, Feyren and myself shall go ahead.” Callon spoke quietly as Leliana and I caught up. “If anything happens, we will come back immediately.”

“Are you sure it is wise for you to go ahead yourself? If something were to happen…”

“Leli, we’ll be fine. We’ll all protect each other and come back safe.”

She grasped my shoulder tightly before sighing and letting go.

“For all our sakes, I do hope that you are correct.”

* * *

Feynren was excited.

It felt like it had been a lifetime ago that he had been able to go along with one of his parents on a scouting mission. Both his parents were protective, and he could understand why even if he didn’t like it.

It was nice though that his _naneth_ hadn’t spoken against him coming with the group.

“This magic feels almost familiar.”

Feynren hadn’t actually spoken to the bald mage, but there was something _off_ about him. The mage hadn’t noticed it, but his mother would give him indecipherable looks every now and then. Those looks made Feynren wary around the other elf.

“It feels Ancient, which is odd because the architecture that I can see from here is definitely Fereldan and not Elvhen.”

His mother would know.

When they had first found him and before they had fled to the camp of the Blades of Hesserian; Zevran and Mallorn were running from the organisation that had pretty much enslaved his father from childhood. The three of them had stumbled upon an old temple that had been protected with magics from times long since past.

Feynren didn’t remember a whole lot about those few weeks spent in the temple, too ill from blood loss and fever. He had been treated, at least a little in the Temple but not enough to rouse him from the state he was in. But he did remember the feel of the magic and that his parents were able to understand it in turn; at least that is what he understood.

“Naneth, it’s like the temple.”

She nodded, “Yes, that is exactly what is feels like.”

Callon gave them both a questioning look, “I’m sorry, Temple?”

Feynren grinned at the older elf, “I think it was a Temple of June? I wasn’t exactly functioning at the time, but it was definitely June.”

Solas’ head snapped up from where he was examining the ground, a look of fierce shock on his face before it was quickly replaced by one of curious interest. Feynren wondered what that was about, but put it out of his mind for the time being.

“An actual surviving Temple of June?”

Callon’s voice was full of amazed wonder.

“It was something special.”

Mallorn answered, before prodding her scythe into a rock and causing a bright flash of light.

“I wondered if that was you, _Tuile_.”

A new voice had joined them. It was familiar to Feynren, like a half forgotten memory. Callon and Solas had readied themselves for battle, but Feynren had followed his mothers lead who hadn’t bothered.

“Well, _well_ , look who it is. Didn’t expect to see you so far from your forest and the calming isolation of your walls, Mih’anril.”

A tall figure seemed to appear out of nowhere, a hood covering most of their face. They wore gold and silver armour, something that Feynren recognised from the Temple of June. Could this be one of the Ancient Elvhen that they had encountered all those years ago?

Mih’anril laughed, “I wasn’t going to leave the sanctum, but then the sky broke open.”

“And then the sky broke open.” His mother shook her head, “I don’t believe Tanarel would have been happy with your decision.”

“No, he was not.” Mih’anril turned towards the other elves, removing her hood. Blood red hair and dark gold eyes greeted them, black vallaslin covered her face marking her as one of June’s. But there was something off about her, she was nothing at all like the Dalish.

Something _more_ like his mother and Solas.

“The High Priest wouldn’t have let you out of his sight, so how?”

“I got dragged along too.”

A man spoke up from behind Callon, who jumped and almost threw his dagger but it was caught by the other person.

“Do be careful with this.”

Tanarel handed it back to Callon with a look of barely disguised disdain on his face.

“Now _Mallorn_ ,” Tanarel had turned his back on Callon and Solas to face Mallorn who looked back at the man with a grimace on her face. She clearly did not like the other person and the feeling was mutual if the look on the mans face was any indication. “Why have you dragged my sister into this mess?”

“Me? I dragged her into this mess? If you hadn’t noticed by now, and strange since you _love_ to remind me Mih’anril is a lot older than me. And an adult.”

Feynren and Mih’anril gave each other a sharp look; they both knew that this was not going to end well unless someone stepped in. It wasn’t going to be either of them though.

It would have to be Solas or Callon, and one of them had had enough confrontation that month so far.

* * *

Solas was shocked, but trying desperately to hide it.

He would need to speak with Wisdom, things were not as they once seemed.

He knew that vestiges of the people still existed, Mallorn (who he suspected to be one. Quite possibly an amnesiac or similar given how she interacted with spirits and the Fade) and Felassan were obvious examples, but still surviving High Priests and disciples?

That he had not foreseen, especially since he had watched in uthenera the despair and destruction of the Temple of Dirthamen, now a shadow of its former (supposed) glory.

The High Priest of June, Tanarel and Mallorn we’re getting incredibly heated at this point, almost nose to nose and glaring. Solas couldn’t help but wonder how they hadn’t reached for their weapons at this point, but that thought came a moment too soon.

Mallorn had drawn her scythe, and Tanarel reached for his staff.

He hadn’t taken Mallorn for someone whose temper overrode her common sense, but the High Priest must have been someone who dragged the worst out of her. And apparently in much the same manner that Anaris did in him.

Solas must have been in his head for slightly too long, as he saw Mallorn throw herself at Tanarel before tugged backwards by Callon and her son, with Mih’anril holding her brother back. Tanarel had a smug grin his his face, and Solas knew then that the other man had said something incredibly offensive.

And stupid.

“You will not speak of my husband nor my son like that again, or _I’ll drag you into the Void myself_.”

Solas stepped in to avoid the bloodshed that was inevitably going to happen.

“Mallorn, _please_.”

He didn’t explicitly mention the people behind them in the valley, injured and cold nor the fact that the world was at risk but his plea seemed to calm her enough that she leant back into Callon and Feynren, ceding her struggle.

Tanarel on the other hand seemed to grow even smugger, if that were to be a thing.

“You really do _heel_ like a bitch, don’t you?”

Mallorn snarled, sounding more wolf than an elf.

“I’ll show you bitch!”

“Enough!”

Solas had had enough.

“You are both adults! The world is falling apart, and we do not need to be at each others throats at this time!”

Tanarel’s smug expression fell as he finally took the time to look properly at Solas, eyes widening. Solas had never met the man, not interacting with the followers of the other Evanuris as much as his own people, those that had joined him and those that he had freed, but he supposed that it wouldn’t have been difficult for another of the People to actually recognise him if they had attended similar circles in Arlathan.

Solas had tried to keep a low profile, but in the later years of the war that didn’t eventuate.

“Of course, I am sorry.” Mallorn turned to Callon and Feynren, smiling weakly. “I really am sorry, I don’t particularly like myself when I get like that and the High Priest of June really doesn’t help.”

Mallorn did not deign to address the man by his name, which Solas understood. Too much power in a name, or title even and the person addressed could have their ego inflated to an over proportionate degree.

Callon grinned at her despite the situation, “Don’t apologise, it’s almost comforting to see that you loose your temper as much as the next person, the next elf. It makes your legend seem more... realistic?”

Mallorn grimaced, “Legend? That’s one way to put it.”

Feynren reached up and gave his mother a hug, who returned it gripping him tighter.

“I don’t know what it was that he said, but he’s not worth your anger.” Feynren thought for a moment before adding quietly,

“Not yet anyway.”

* * *

Skyhold was as wrecked and in shambles as what I had expected.

Parts of it were older than the spires that seemed to be Fereldan, but most was held together by magic and sheer force of will.

Tanarel and Mih’anril kept to themselves for the most part, with only Mih’anril speaking. Tanarel would only glance at the gathered group of humans, dwarves, elves and few vashoth with a disdainful look every now and then. But he kept to himself and his sister and that was okay with me.

I had already duelled him to the almost death once and had no desire to do so again. At least not any time soon, perhaps if he got on my nerves.

What needed to be done first however was create somewhere hopefully better than the outdoor surgery that I had seen in the game, it needed to be clean and sterile so that more lives wouldn’t be lost.

Magic was going to be needed here and in possibly massive quantities, and ninety-nine percent of the people would not be happy with that.

“The veil, it’s so very thin here…”

Solas sounded as if he were in awe, looking around curiously. I couldn’t help but think that he must have been looking for any signs of his once mighty fortress that now lay in ruins beneath the rubble of those who had built atop them.

“I would imagine it would be, considering the rumours surrounding this place.”

Solas looked at me, curious as we watched the weary people walk onto the grounds of Skyhold, a little in awe themselves at the luck that they had.

“What rumours?”

“That Tarasyl’an Te’las was where the Veil was created; literally where the _sky was held back_. It’s an older rumour, one I had only heard about from some of the older elvhen who had found it in the Fade.”

I wondered how he’d take me using his excuse of ‘I heard about it in the Fade’; apparently my time in Thedas had really made me more than a little manipulative.

Solas’ face looked as though it could have been carved with stone, with _marble_.

“If that is the case, then from here it would be immensely hard for anyone to pull the Veil down from anywhere else and for the Veil around Tarasyl’an Te’las to _not_ be affected.”

* * *

**In the Past, Elvhen Ruins, Somewhere in the Brecilian Forest, 9:31 Dragon**

_I decided that I needed to perform an experiment._

_I needed Kana, Zevran and Alistair to sit together and for Kana and I to speak with them in Elvhen. It was a bit strange, but if Alistair and Zevran were able to understand the rhythm of Elvhen, then it would prove a point._

_What point I was trying to prove, I couldn’t be sure, but I was going to do it anyway._

_I’d picked a night that we were going to be on watch, in pairs as it was becoming more dangerous due to bandits and the Blight in general. Morrigan had already excused herself for the evening, saying that someone needed to be ready bright and early to leave for the Dalish Camp._

_I had no voice for singing, not really but I was passable and so I started to quietly sing._

_“Elgara vallas, da'len._ _Melava somniar. Mala tara aravas. Ara ma'desen melar.”_

_Fitting I supposed now that the sun had fully set and the others were readying for bed. Kana had perked up at the familiar words, looking in my direction with a slight smile on her face._

_“Iras ma ghilas, da'len. Ara ma'nedan ashir. Dirthara lothlenan'as. Bal emma mala dir.”_

_Kana joined in for the second verse, as Zevran seemed to perk up. I could hear him start to hum along, even though he clearly had no knowledge of the actual words. It seemed that the language or at least the rhythm, was ingrained within him.._

_“Tel'enfenim, da'len. Irassal ma ghilas. Ma garas mir renan. Ara ma'athlan vhenas. Ara ma'athlan vhenas.”_

_I had forgotten how short that particular lullaby was, but the experiment seemed to have worked as Alistair had also started to hum._

_Either that or the song was catchy, I couldn’t be sure unless one of them said something._

_“Thank you, Thorn.” Kana was smiling up at me, “I haven’t heard that in a long time, it’s nice to know that there are still those that sing it.”_

_“Mir Da'len Somniar isn’t something to be forgotten.”_

_Zevran spoke up then, “Is that what it’s called? It sounded incredibly familiar! Like I knew the meaning...”_

_“But not the language...”_

_Alistair was the one to finished the sentence, paling as he noticed that Kana was looking at him with shock._

_“What? What do you mean?”_

_Kana had slid up to Alistair, almost on his lap which was something that didn’t go unnoticed by the man in question who blushed a deep red, stuttering out his answer._

_“I mean, I got the meaning of the song? It was about a setting sun and calling a child home after they dreamt?”_

_Kana started, shock obvious on her face._

_Zevran also quietly spoke up, “It is exactly as our friend here said, I was not raised Dalish but the language? It was familiar.”_

_Kana was still staring at the apparent human in front of her, as he was grappling with this sudden knowledge of understanding a language that he had never once learnt._

_“I have never heard this song before in my life, and yet I know what it means? How?”_

_I wanted to desperately say that it could be because his mother was an elf, but it felt wrong to say it now and so outright. And I felt that someone who knew precisely who his mother was should have been the one to tell him and since there was so few of those still living it felt that it was an impossibility._

_“There is a theory that those of Elvhen blood, no matter how distant the relation, are sometimes able to understand the rhythm of the language and to distinguish meaning from what they understand.”_

_Paraphrasing the Dread Wolf felt strange, but he had said it first (or had I now? It was all very confusing still) and it seemed to be true._

_“I... don’t know who my mother is. Only that I’ve been told that she was a servant.”;_

_I coughed shaking my head; Kana gave me a strange look but stopped when Zevran spoke, “And your father?”_

_Alistair grimaced, “I know who he is, was. And he had Dragon Blood, or so the legends say.”_

_Kana, finally out of her shock and still unmoving from her spot._

_“There’s only one human family I know in Fereldan with the blood of dragons, and that’s the Theirin line.”_

_“Yes, I happen to be the bastard son of the missing King Maric.”_

_That seemed to be all the shock anyone could handle that night as everyone was silent, only the crackling of the fire was heard and the distant howling of wolves._

* * *

_The next morning, as we were packing to leave for the Dalish Camp once more, I stopped by Zevran with shaking hands and a blush on my cheeks. I had been able to speak with Zevran more, about small things like the wolves, and the duality of Witherfang and the Lady of the Forest but nothing personal._

_All about the quest._

_I honestly had no idea why speaking to this man affected me like this, only that I was not like this around anyone else. Not even attractive people, which this camp seemed to be filled with._

_“Zevran, I had noticed you eyeing some of the gloves that the craftswoman was making.” I pulled the set of immaculately crafted leather gloves that I had bargained for, traded herbs and coin for and handed them to the now gaping man._

_“I hope that you like them.”_

_My heart was pounding in my chest as he took the gift with wide eyes. I took that as my cue to walk away as he hadn’t actually said anything, but a hand around my wrist pulled me back into a firm chest._

_“Gracias, my friend.”_

_He let go of me and smiled, a small smile that was full of gratitude and slight awe._

_“One day I will tell you of my mother, or at least what I remember. And maybe you will tell me of yours, if you are able.”_

_I grinned down at him, now very aware of our height difference, “I think I’d like that.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Lothering_ was the town that the Hawke family settled in, where you could find both Leliana and Sten in DAO and where Mallorn likes to say that she’s from since it’s the only place in Thedas that she lived (at least until she married Zevran). It was also destroyed during the Fifth Blight by the darkspawn hoard.
> 
>  _Melava inan enansal, ir su aravel tu elvaral, u na emma abelas. In elgar sa vir mana, in tu setheneran din emma na. lath sulevin, lath aravel ena, arla ven tu vir mahvir, melana ‘nehn enasal ir sa lethalin._ are the lyrics to a song entitled Suledin, which means Endure. In English the words would translate roughly to _Time was once a blessing but long journeys are made longer when alone within. Take spirit from the long ago but do not dwell in lands no longer yours. Be certain in need, and the path will emerge to a home tomorrow and time will again be the joy it once was._
> 
>  _Elvhenan, i tel’sal juvaslasir_ was a translation that I found online for the statement _We are the Last of the Elvhenan, never again shall we submit._ (Or at least that’s what it’s meant to say.)
> 
> If there was a Temple of Mythal, a Shrine of Sylaise and the Lost Temple of Dirthamen then surely there would other and quite possibly surviving temples or shrines to other members of the Elvhen Pantheon. Why not June?
> 
> Mih’anril is actually another Inquisitor that I’m doing a play through for, but I wanted to add her and her brother Tanarel into the story into different roles and I think that it fits well.
> 
>  _Uthenera_ was the ancient practice of the immortals who would sleep once they began to tire of immortality and literally means _eternal waking dream._
> 
>  _Elgara vallas, da'len. Melava somniar. Mala tara aravas. Ara ma'desen melar. Iras ma ghilas, da'len. Ara ma'nedan ashir. Dirthara lothlenan'as. Bal emma mala dir._ is a lullaby sung primarily by the Dalish and roughly translates into English as _Sun sets, little one, Time to dream Your mind journeys, But I will hold you here. Where will you go, little one Lost to me in sleep? Seek truth in a forgotten land Deep with in your heart. Never fear, little one, Wherever you shall go. Follow my voice-- I will call you home. I will call you home._

**Author's Note:**

> I've got a Pinterest board that I update occasionally, so if you're interested in checking that out you can find it [here](https://www.pinterest.com.au/prussiancrow/aes-dragon-age/mgit-mallorn-tuil%C3%AB/).


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